


demolition lovers

by KodzuCatt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abusive Parents, Aged-Up Character(s), Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma Friendship, Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha Kuroo Tetsurou, Alpha Oikawa Tooru, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Beta Kozume Kenma, Break Up, Comfort/Angst, Discrimination, Eventual Romance, Hannibal references, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mindhunter References, Mommy Issues, Mutual Pining, Omega Akaashi Keiji, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse, Rating May Change, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, Tags Contain Spoilers, true crime references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 87,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KodzuCatt/pseuds/KodzuCatt
Summary: Kenma Kozume believes he has his life under control. With a stable job as a detective, he lives his day-to-day routine, but all this will change with the arrival of his new partner, Kuroo Tetsurō, an alpha who will bring with him more mysteries than certainties.This, plus the appearance of a mysterious alpha serial killer, will put Kenma in check, who will have to decide whether it is worth following his heart or facing suspicions about whom he wants to trust so much.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 35
Kudos: 105





	1. News and a couple of misfortunes

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [demolition lovers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138172) by [KodzuCatt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KodzuCatt/pseuds/KodzuCatt). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma hates a lot of things but surprises take the cake, especially when they have a ridiculous hairstyle and a smile that makes you want to erase it from a slap.

At his 27, Kozume Kenma still hated Mondays.

Maybe it was waking up in bed, his body heavy and eyes aching from playing on the PSP in the wee hours of the morning, or the simple fact that he hated to get up early after resting for the weekend. More than once he tried to sit down to analyze it when he got into his car and drove to work, making horrible faces every time another driver yelled at him. It could also be running into noisy people like Oikawa Tōru or explosive coworkers like Iwaizumi Hajime, or maybe it was the combination of both.

But, what he hated most by far, was the paperwork.

Although he worked at a police station and was more focused on investigating cases — the homicidal ones —, didn’t escape this. Mountains of documents piled up on his desk, to the point that he felt these towers engulf him. And it wasn't like he wanted to delay the police processes — he was anxious about the overload of work — or screw his boss — Akaashi Keiji, the office boss, was one of the few friends he had —, he just wasn't good at it. Sitting down to read paragraphs and paragraphs of on-court issues, written in bombastic words that gave him a headache, not to mention having to look for possible mistakes that could fuck up the whole process — Oikawa could hopefully work with Iwaizumi without starting a fight, who thought they would make a good team? — and further delay work.

But, perhaps, surprises could be a thousand times worse than paperwork.

He parked his car where he found space in the parking lot of station 512, staying a few minutes inside to enjoy the little peace had left. It was summer, and the heat was suffocating enough to have him in a stupor that didn't want to complain about. The temperature was high as to make him sleepy, but it wasn't hot enough to sweat like a fucking pig. Even the faux leather seat where he was sitting was comfortable at the time, flooding his head with impure desires. What would it be like to recline the backrest slightly, curl up in fetal position, and close his eyes for the rest of the week? Asleep there was no paperwork, no noisy companions giving him monstrous migraines, not even new cases of horrible murders...

But that meant leaving Akaashi alone with mountains of work.

Kenma banged his head against the steering wheel letting out the most irritating groan that could exist, then removed his belt and left the vehicle. He walked towards the station, lazily climbing the three steps that led to the glass door, which had a sticker attached to the police shield. He used the side of his body to push it off, being greeted by a heated argument between Iwaizumi and Oikawa — the only alphas he could tolerate — who were behind the customer service desk.

Kozume gave them a silent look, with no intention of meddling. He had enough with the headache that the lack of rest caused him, didn’t want to add more seasoning with the screams of that pair. He passed by, moving like a ghost on the carpeted floor and glanced quickly at Akaashi Keiji's "Ω" office, but the glass door was closed; maybe his friend was busy on some important call or something like that, so he preferred not to disturb. He continued on his way, entering a narrow hallway to the right. He passed several doors that concealed interrogation and filing rooms, plus a couple of vending machines, before reaching what was his private office.

The door was mostly dark wood, with a frosted glass window where his name was found: Kozume Kenma "β”, _homicide detective_. He’d never liked that title, would prefer it to be just his name or nothing instead. According to what he remembered, the person in charge of sending the stickers with his name was Oikawa, and, well, maybe it was _obvious_ that this would happen. He could still hear Akaashi's apologies and Iwaizumi's screams, but it wasn't something that mattered too much to him.

After all, he wasn’t really a detective.

He reached out a hand, holding the knob and turning it, causing the door to open with a soft click. He barely tugged a little on the knob to get inside, a foul odor filled his nose, causing him to step back and cover his mouth. The unmistakable metallic smell of blood filled the narrow hallway, punched into his nostrils. Had someone caught a gang member from a street fight and locked them in his office? Sometimes that kind of thing used to happen since they had a single interrogation room, but his office was the last to be considered for emergencies. Tangible evidence? It wasn’t common for that to happen since their analysis were based on photos of the crime scene and the testimonies that the witnesses gave (if any existed).

_Could it be some kind of shitty prank from Oikawa?_

He wrinkled his nose and frowned, kicking the door open and entering like a storm of anger, determined to take the "little joke" and go and stamp it on the face of that dickhead.

What he found exceeded all his expectations.

“Oh, hi there!”

In front of Kenma was a stranger sitting at his desk, with a hairstyle that looked more like a dead rat than anything else and a smile that was trying to be enigmatic, but only gave a more creepy image. He was dressed in a red short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of earth-colored shorts, which revealed long, muscular legs. A pair of sharp hazel eyes topped the stranger's face, which narrowed with rather uncertain intentions.

Kenma only managed to reach into the pocket of his black jacket, taking hold of the stun gun that he kept there.

“You must be Detective Kozume Kenma, aren't ya?” The guy stood up, making it pretty clear he was much taller than the beta. _Where the hell could such a building have come from?_ “You're much smaller than what—”

Kenma didn't let the man finish speaking, taking the pistol out of his pocket and shooting him. The darts plunged into the other's belly, sending a shock enough to knock him to the ground, immobilized. Heart pounding in his throat, Kenma dropped the load of the gun, rummaging through the pockets of his coat to recharge it. He didn't understand why the fuck there was such a strange civilian in his office, let alone where the smell of blood came from, but he wasn't up to deal with it.

He would go to Akaashi, and thus cut the bullshit.

Kozume left his office quickly, closing the door behind him as if nothing had happened. His eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets, and a cold sweat ran down his back. His mind had become a chaotic whirlwind, making him unable to process things well. What if he was just a civilian who wanted to talk to him? The regular conduit used to depart for Iwaizumi, who took the victim's report and scheduled an interview if necessary. And, if that happened, they never let any agent be alone conducting an interview, and not to mention that Kozume was last on the list for that kind of thing. He wasn’t good at talking to strangers, least of all pulling information on the spot. Damn, even ordering food over the phone caused him a horrible anxiety.

He walked down the hall again, listening to the argument between Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the background, which seemed about to move on to a physical fight. He ignored them, going straight to his friend's office, entering without even knocking amidst his anxiety and nervousness.

Again, _another_ surprise.

“Akashi! Where did you tell me to leave these papers?!”

Kenma was greeted with the screams of a stranger, who was also dressed in civilian clothing. He was slightly shorter than the black-haired guy, but he doubled his muscle mass. If he was put to fight a bull, it would be difficult to discern who would win. In addition to that, it should be noted that his eyes were much larger, golden like an owl's, and so expressive that Kenma felt overwhelmed by them. Although by far the most striking thing of all was his hair, styled on two ends with a mix of gray and black. _Were they gray hairs, or did he really think that hair dyed that way looked good?_

The scent of a pine forest hit Kozume’s nose, who tried to retreat without being seen but failed.

“Oh! What do we have here?” The owl-faced guy fixed his huge eyes on Kenma, who felt crushed by them. He reached into his pocket again, reaching for his stun gun. “Akaashi, here's a little guy who—!”

Again, the beta fired, this time hitting his target in the forehead. The owl-faced guy’s expression seemed to paralyzed, before falling with a shrill sound to the ground, almost crushing Kenma on the way. Dejected the guy, the figure of Akaashi appeared, with a surprise expression.

The detective dropped the load, without lowering the pistol.

“What the...?” Akaashi murmured, not quite understanding what had just happened. When his gray eyes fell on Kenma's presence, his face changed slightly from surprise to concern. Few people were able to notice the small differences in the expressions he made, Kenma being part of this select group. “Kozume! What's going on? God, you look pale as a ghost.”

"There’s a weird guy in my office, and he smells like blood," he murmured in response. His words came out in a rush, nervous, reflecting how he felt. His hands were shaking and sweating a lot, his chest was being pressed by an invisible force. It was necessary for Keiji to approach him so that he could lower the gun, take him to a chair and sit down. “He's huge, ugly, and his hair looks like a dead rat...”

"Take it easy, breath," said the omega, mimicking the breathing exercise he once taught his friend. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale_. Kenma did as he was told, slowly feeling the pressure of his chest melt away. His thoughts began to flow better, ceasing to be a swarm of angry bees. “Now tell me, what happened?”

"In my office, when I arrived, I met a very strange civilian, who spoke to me as if he had known me," the beta said, trying to keep calm as he spoke. His heart was still pounding against his throat, but at least he was no longer trembling. “He came up to me, and I shot him with the taser. He smelled like blood... way _too_ much like blood.”

“Oikawa-san didn't say anything to you when you arrived?” Keiji spoke narrowing his gray eyes. Kenma shook his head, to which a shadow of weariness appeared on the omega's face, as he sighed. “I asked him to tell you, but I see that I will have to do it.”

“What do you mean?” The possibilities flooded the beta's mind like a torrent, breaking against the walls of his precarious stability. He didn't like Akaashi's expression.

Akaashi gave his friend a tired look, heading towards the small water dispenser he had in his office. He poured a glass in silence, while Kozume's nervousness increased. He didn't want to immediately think about the worst possibilities, but his head insisted on going that way. Nibbled the inside of his cheek, lowering his eyes and thanking the glass of water that the omega offered him.

“In the last few months, the number of crimes in the country have increased, mainly homicides, but at the same time it has been the period of time where we have worked the slowest.” Akaashi maintained a rather neutral expression, although his features seemed to have become even more marked. He looked stressed, much more than usual. “The Headquarters has given the order to streamline the processes, thus many people have been fired…”

“... _Am I fired?_ ”

“No.” That short answer was enough to take a weight off Kenma, who couldn't help but sigh. He could complain a lot about his job but really needed the pay. “Since we are not a well staffed station, new recruits have been sent to us as support.”

“So those guys I shot are...?”

"New companions, yes," Keiji agreed, as he approached his desk. He rummaged through a stack of papers, pulling out a pair of black folders. Both had a photo clipped on the outside, thus being the life cards of the alleged "civilians" that Kozume attacked. “Their official uniforms arrive in a couple of days, that’s why you saw them dressed like civilians.”

"Uh, sorry," he murmured, receiving the folders that Akaashi offered him. In one, he could read "Bokuto Kōtarō", while in the other "Kuroo Tetsurō", both being accompanied by the striking symbol "α". “Are they both alphas? Aren't they reserved for the Special Forces?”

"It was a decision from above, so I'm not very clear on the details," he clarified, staring at Kenma while he reviewed the pages. “Taking into account the tasks we have, I’ve decided to assign Kuroo-san as your partner, while Bokuto-san will stay with me.”

“ _Partner?_ And why do I want that?” Kozume replied, not taking his eyes off the files. He had Kuroo's specifically open, and the first thing he saw on the resume was about his pheromones: _metallic smell, similar to blood_. He couldn't help wrinkling his nose at the memory of the stink in his office. “I'm fine working on my own, I don't need someone that hinders me.”

“Kenma.” Akaashi’s tone changed to a more serious, almost a harsh one. The beta looked up, fixing his yellow eyes on the gray ones. When his name came out of Akaashi's mouth, it was an important matter. “You’re one of my best men, I _cannot_ allow you to overload yourself with work and risk your health. You already stay up late because of the paperwork, and you skip lunch almost every day.”

"I’m fine."

"I'm not asking for your opinion, it's an order." Keiji kept a stony expression, but exhaustion and stress could still be seen in his eyes. Kozume felt some guilt writhe in his chest, like a worm. His friend cared so much about him and he was only giving him headaches for his stubbornness. “You don’t have to be friends or anything, just—"

“Kay," Kenma interrupted, slamming the folder he'd been reading. The omega's expression seemed to light up, expectant at what he would say. “I'll work with the newbie, but if he does something weird I'm going to _shoot him_ with a real gun,” he continued, wrinkling his nose. It was nothing personal, but he _really_ didn’t like alphas at all. He had enough having Oikawa and Iwaizumi close. “And if the alpha who works with you does something weird, I'll shoot him too.”

"You say it like I can't protect myself, you know?" The corners of Akaashi's lips curved slightly upward. Kenma reciprocated in the same way, only his smile was more evident. “I can be an omega, but that doesn't mean I can't give an alpha a good kick.”

"I can shot them when you're done, then."

They both chuckled, ending the conversation. Kenma wasn’t entirely convinced of the new scenario but also didn't want to give Akaashi more problems than he already had. In itself, being an omega in a world dominated by alphas was already fucked up, and having a more or less important position in an institution like the police — which was _also_ run by alphas — shouldn’t make it more pleasant. He wanted his friend to be fine, regardless of whether that meant dealing with Kuroo Tetsurō’s presence from now on.

Kozume left Keiji's office, stopping dead in his tracks. Iwaizumi and Oikawa were still arguing, while his _new partner_ had left the office, maybe looking for him. When his eyes connected with Kuroo, he gave him a smirk, and the beta could only wrinkle his nose.

For a moment, he wished he had stayed in his car.

* * *

During the first week, Kenma began to think that Kuroo wasn’t such a bad partner. 

The alpha did his tasks in a methodical way, fulfilling schedules and requirements perfectly. He only asked what was fair and necessary, which saved the beta from having to waste time in empty conversations. He kept his space clean, and used to keep his eyes on the paperwork; this was especially pleasant for Kozume, who was becoming too nervous to look him in the eye. In some way, he believed that Kuroo hated him for the way they met: he had shot him without even let him explain anything, which —without being lethal— must have been painful. What if that was the reason he didn't speak? It was very likely, Kenma surely would do the same in that kind of situation. What if he ended up ruining his experience within law enforcement, and wanted to resign? Akaashi would have a lot of trouble if that happened, especially when it was the fault of that member who, as such, _shouldn’t be_ there. What if he had already reported the violence, and some kind of legal issue was in process? Sure, shooting him with a stun gun could be considered attempted murder, even more so without knowing about the victim's medical condition.

His head was a mess he didn't want to deal with, so he took one more pill than usual that morning.

"Oi.”

The sudden call made Kenma jump into his chair, raising his head abruptly. He had been distracted, looking at the specs of a game he wanted to buy, so his defenses were low enough to surprise him. He met the sharp eyes of Kuroo, who had the shadow of a smile peeking out his lips. He wanted, for a moment, to tear that expression from his face somehow. _It wasn't funny that it scared him, dammit._

"I wanted to ask something long ago." His voice sounded serious, but at the same time with a sly tinge. Kozume felt like he was going to be the center of some joke he didn't want to be part of. “Are you the one who solved the Dahmer case? I was reading and your name appeared several times in the news of that period.”

"Ah yes," he replied, relaxing. If those were "yes" or "no" questions, he could have his nerves under control. “Why?”

"What you did was incredible! The connection between the clues, the ingenious conclusions, the approach of the capture plan... _God_ , I had never seen anything like this before!” Tetsurō smiled, speaking with emotion. The beta felt his face suddenly hot and was forced to look down. _Those were too many compliments in one sentence_. “Man, on the news they didn't talk about anything else than the prodigy that solved the Dahmer case.”

"U-Uh, it wasn't _that_ bad." His voice trembled, enough to make him want to whack his head on the table. He couldn't even carry on a normal conversation without his chest appearing about to explode. “It was only a matter of putting together what was known, nothing else.”

"Still, what you did was awazing." Kozume's face warmed, even more, reaching his neck and ears. Maybe he should have taken three pills, not two. “When I learned that I would come to work at the same station as _the genius Kozume Kenma_ , I couldn't contain the excitement. Damn, I felt like I was having a heart attack when Akaashi assigned me as your assistant.”

Kenma could only nod, creating an awkward silence between them. He would have liked to say something, even if it was a terse "thank you". Receiving so much admiration from a stranger, who should have a significant gender superiority complex, was overwhelming. Alphas used to praise no one but their peers, trampling on whatever they considered inferior. Could it be that Kuroo was making fun of him? It would be the most logical thing, but his tone of genuine enthusiasm said something else. Maybe he was thinking too much about things, going over a few meaningless words; maybe it was a way of getting closer after their awkward encounter, and he was just ruining things again.

Damn, he wished he could take another pill in that moment without looking like a freak.

"Well, I'm sorry about what happened the day we met," Kuroo said, putting a hand to the back of his neck. He gave a kind of soft, nervous laugh, smiling the same way. “I didn't want to bother you, I might be overly excited.”

"No. It's nothing, really."

“Yes, it is! I should have been more careful, after all, you didn't know who the hell I was,” he insisted, giving Kenma a meaningful look. “I shouldn't have entered your office just like that, surely the smell was the worst thing of all, right?”

Ah, the blood _thing_. Kozume had ended up missing that little detail, mostly because he didn't usually feel the pheromones of others. Being a beta, the only time he could catch a scent trail was when the alpha or omega in question was going through strong emotions, like excitement or anger. This wasn’t an impediment in his work as a detective, since the majority of murders with people of these genres were linked to emotional outbursts, leading to crime scenes being loaded with pheromones.

And since Tetsurō used to be pretty quiet in the office, he ended up skipping it.

“No.” Lie. He actually came to think of the worst of possibilities, but didn't want to be so cruel to Kuroo. After so many compliments, how could he even offend him like that with something he couldn't control? “It was just... _unexpected_ , I guess.”

"Anyway, I'd like to make up for the inconvenience in some way, Detective Kozume." Kenma wrinkled his nose in disgust. Despite working on it, he hated _when people gave him the title of detective. It didn't fit in, it was _too big_ for him. “We can go get some drinks later, I don't know.”_

" _As long as you don't call me Detective Kozume..."_ he muttered under his breath.

“Huh? And how would you like me to call you?” To his bad luck, Kuroo listened perfectly, sending a surge of nervousness through his body. _Maybe I should learn to shut my mouth_ , he thought.

“Ke-Kenma is fine," he replied, hiding behind the curtains that were his bleached hair. Tetsurō's hazel gaze hovered over him like a cat's eyes, scrutinizing him without shame. He was the prey in the hunter's territory.

"Kenma, Kenma..." he repeated as if savoring the word on his palate. The beta wondered if it would be too rude to hit the table with his head and die. “I like it, yes.” Kenma nodded, waiting for the conversation to end once and for all. “And you? Will you call me _Tetsurō?_ That way we would have a companion dynamic that—”

” _No._ “

"Ow, but it would be fun!"

"No, it _wouldn't_ be."

“Yes, it _would!_ ”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

"Well, how would you like to call me, then?"

Kenma stopped to think about it for a few moments, before answering.

“Kuro.”

“ _Kuro?_ ” Kenma nodded, not looking up. As his phone was still on the desk, he took it and used it as a smokescreen.The way he was going, he would have to take two more pills. “Sounds like a pet name.”

“Hm.”

"But, I like it," Kuroo replied, a smirk spreading on his face, which Kozume could see out of the corner of his eye. If he ignored the rest of his face, he could tell that he looked a lot like Cheshire's cat. “So, you're Kenma, and I'm..."

“Kuro.”

Tetsurō laughed, loud, which was like a drill in Kenma ears. The conversation ended after that, except for the occasional comment that Kuroo made from time to time, being answered with guttural sounds or head movements by Kenma. Little by little, the presence of the other no longer seemed like the worst misfortune that could have happened to him, and even a few smiles escaped from him at Kuro's terrible jokes.

_Maybe having a partner wasn't so bad after all._

* * *

Time passed, and those kinds of conversations between Kenma and Kuroo began to become something of the day to day.

Kuroo asked simple things about work or trifles, such as the weather or relationships between the other members of the station —this was generally directed at the strange relationship between Oikawa and Iwaizumi—. Those were things that Kenma could answer without much hesitation, without falling into mental torture of whether his answers were correct or not. Despite not being the most willing to relate to others other than Akaashi, he ended up liking Tetsurō's company, who made the office a more enjoyable working area and less stressful than it had ever been. Obviously, it wasn't something Kenma was going to _say_ to him, even less considering the possible ways he would have to bother him later.

Kuroo's ego was already _too_ high.

"Oi, Kenma."

It was Saturday afternoon, and nearly a month had already passed since the new recruits entered. Kozume was sitting at his desk, reviewing some interesting articles about a game he wanted to buy when Tetsurō entered the office with a fairly large plastic bag, from which an intense smell of food flowed. The beta raised his golden eyes from the screen, giving a quick analysis, trying to figure out the other’s intentions.

For its part, the alpha showed one of its typical sly smiles, loaded with pride.

"I brought lunch," he sang, sitting down in his chair and putting the plastic bag on the table. A couple of days ago they had installed a new desk inside the office, so now they both had much more room to work without trampling on each other. This was especially good for Kenma, who could do his own things without having the other on him. “I really don't know what you like since you never eat, so I brought everything.”

“ _You...?_ ” Nervousness crept up his throat, along with a slight taste of bitterness that permeated his tongue. He _hated_ receiving gifts, especially when they looked like they cost a lot of money. And, from the amount of food that the alpha brought, it seemed like a good sum spent.

"Last night I got the idea of cooking since it is not very healthy to be eating every day in junk food shops," Kuroo clarified, adjusting himself in his seat. From the bag, he took out a three-layer bentō, plus two sets of disposable wooden chopsticks. The aroma of rice and spices permeated the office. “So, I thought, _Kenma never usually has lunch, it would be great to bring him something_. And since I'm the _best person in the world_ , I did it.”

"U-Uh, I'm not hungry," he replied curtly, hoping that would be enough. It wasn't a lie, he hardly ever had appetite; he tended to eat in situations of need when he felt he would fade or gravity betrayed him. Kuroo's grimace was a poem. “Really, you don't need to worry.”

"Too late, the food is ready," he replied, extending Kenma some chopsticks. He shook his head again, pulling away to push the chopsticks away from his body. “Come on, eat with me! It's a good way to make up for the _shot_ you gave me, _doncha think?_ ”

At that moment, Kenma made the most marked grimace he ever did. That idiot was _manipulating_ him, smiling innocently and with a cunning sparkle in his eyes. He would have liked to say no and throw the chopsticks over his head, but he was right: he acted stingily when they met, and after almost a month he still hadn't apologized as such. Being the adult he was —if he could be considered as such at 27— he had to set an example for the newbie, and behave like a competent human being. Also, what other choice did he have? In case Kuroo commented something to Akaashi, he would end up receiving a scolding from him for the food issue that, despite the years, was still a recurring theme.

Thus, cursing under his breath, he reached out his small hand and took the chopsticks, a fact that only expanded Kuroo’s smile, who proceeded to open the bentō.

They were the typical Japanese dishes based on rice, fish, and pork, in addition to the occasional salad consisting of light vegetables and tomato. There were no fries or anything that involved using too much oil, and the pieces of meat present didn't have a hint of fat. It was like looking at a hospital menu... Or, well, a _nursing home_ menu.

Kenma, among everything he could choose, opted to take an onigiri, which was so perfectly kneaded that the mere idea of eating it hurt him a little. He extended a hand, giving Tetsurō a hesitant glance; he nodded, so he proceeded to pick up the rice ball and bring it closer to his body. It fit quite well in his hands, although for his taste it was bigger than he would like. Normally that sort of thing should be a more portable, comfortable meal to eat, not something that looked more like a _baseball_.

"... It's big," Kenma muttered under his breath, being more of a comment to himself than anything else. To his bad luck, Kuroo managed to listen to him.

“For real? This is the first time that someone says that,“ he answered. The beta raised his golden eyes, meeting the gaze of others. “Maybe _your_ hands are too small.”

“My...?” Kenma looked down at his hands, which were still holding the onigiri. He didn't see anything special about them, and could even say they were average. He frowned slightly, turning his gaze back to alpha, this time looking at his hands. _Bingo_. “It’s not my fault that _yours_ are huge.”

“Huh? Of course not, they’re normal.” Kuroo raised one of his hands, opening it in midair. Kozume calculated that it had to measure about 20 centimeters from the base of the palm to the tip of the middle finger, which made it about 5 centimeters larger than his, not to mention that it was much more massive and muscular. It was one of those hands that would blow you off with a slap.

"...They’re _Wendigo_ hands."

“Wen—? what?” Kenma snorted, holding the onigiri with one hand while unlocking his phone with the other, opening the browser and typing "Wendigo." As the results were shown, he turned the screen towards Kuroo, who narrowed his eyes to analyze the images. He looked like an old man trying to read the newspaper. “C’mon, I don't look like that.” 

“Hm.” He didn’t answer, turning off the screen of the mobile while looking at Kuroo. He would have liked to say that even the pointy tangle in his hairstyle was similar to a Wendigo's horns, but he preferred to remain silent.

“My hands are not that big!”

“They are.”

“Of course not!”

“Yes.”

“Not!”

They spent a couple of minutes arguing like this, like elementary school children. Kenma wasn't particularly bothered by it, and he even foundfunny how easy Kuroo itched with that kind of pseudo-insults. Who could get bothered with a comment about how big their hands were? Not even Oikawa would argue about something like that unless it was Iwaizumi who had made the comment.

And he would have liked to stay that way, answering in order to annoy the alpha and indirectly avoid eating, but after a very brief _"I'm going to show you it's not like that"_ , the situation changed. He didn't even finish processing what he heard, when Kuroo grabbed his free hand and tugged on it, bringing it close enough for his palms to collide.

Kozume held his breath, shivering at the unexpected contact. Tetsurō's palm was large, much more robust than his, too; his fingers stuck out several inches, looming over his. Unlike other —all, actually— occasions when someone little known touched him, he did not feel an immediate rejection of the action. Maybe it was the heat that Kuroo's skin gave off, creating an effervescent sensation in his palm, or the fact that he wasn't forcing him. He didn't hold him or force him to be there, he just pressed his outstretched hand against his.

Kenma kept his golden eyes on his hand and Kuroo's, forming a silence that ended up making the alpha react. He stepped back, his face red as the tomatoes that the bentō included, muttering a rather poor apology, before eating again. He filled his mouth with food as if he was competing to see who could finish lunch first. And Kenma said nothing, just stared at him for a few more seconds, before taking the onigiri again and giving it a taste.

It tasted good, but his head seemed more interested in the tingling that still lingered in his hand.

* * *

After that little approach, it took Kuroo a couple of days to speak to him as naturally as ever, and Kenma didn’t get to understand the reason.

Had he been rude by just eating an onigiri? He really wasn't too hungry, and preferred to avoid the nausea that would come if he overloaded his stomach, so it wasn't entirely intentional. Should he have told him something about his cooking skills? He wasn't very good with compliments, least of all when it came to food. He could be happy with an instant ramen packet, so some would say he had bad taste. Was it one of his expressions, perhaps? His face was not the most pleasant in the world —Oikawa had mentioned it to him once, receiving a scolding from Iwaizumi because it— but didn't remember putting on a disgusted face. His gaze? He had a bad habit of staring at people, maybe he had done it too long and ended up making Kuroo uncomfortable.

These thoughts haunted Kenma even when Tetsurō spoke to him again, but he didn't have the guts or the nerves to ask if it was any of those reasons.

"Kozume, how are you doing with Kuroo-san?"

That Monday afternoon, Akaashi and Kenma went up to the second floor of the station, where there was a small gym that —at the same time— served as a resting room. It was not check-out time yet, so both friends went up with a coffee and a cup of hot chocolate respectively, all taken from the beverage machine next to the food dispenser. The expected would have been to sit and chat, looking at the city through the large windows, but they coincided with a much more striking show: Bokuto and Kuroo were practicing boxing. Both had completed their respective tasks for the day, so they escaped for a while to train while letting the hours pass by.

Kozume remembered that Tetsurō asked for his permission, but he paid him so little attention that didn’t even know he would meet him here. Instead, Akaashi gave his subordinate a small smile when he yelled out his name, saying to look at him as he won.

“Kuro?” Kenma asked. He and Akaashi were sitting facing each other at a small table they had for coffee, from which they watched the fight. “Well, the usual. It's kind of weird, but it works fine,” he replied, shrugging. He surrounded the cup of chocolate with both hands while taking a few glances at the "boxing ring". It was like watching a Tekken game, but instead of Jin and King, there were a couple of idiots. “And you, how are you doing with Bokuto?”

"Great, he learns fast and worries about doing well what I tell him, although he can be very noisy." The beta nodded, sipping his chocolate before answering.

"I thought you didn't like that kind of people, y’know, Oikawa's type."

"He’s different, more... energetic, I guess," Akaashi mused, directing his eyes to where they trained. Bokuto had given Tetsurō a good right hook in the face, who almost fell on his ass as he avoided it. “He is quite concerned and even asked me if I should put on patches to suppress his pheromones and not suffocate me.”

“Hm.”

"I told him it wasn't necessary, but he still did it." The corners of Keiji's lips curved upward, forming an almost imperceptible smile. Kozume, being his friend for years, noticed that without difficulty and couldn't help but chuckle. At this, the omega turned gray eyes on him, doubt dancing in them. “Uh, is something wrong?”

"Nothing, nothing," he replied, lowering his golden eyes into his cup. The chocolate gave off a sweet scent, intoxicating his senses, while the chorus of blows and screams accompanied him in the background. “I never imagined you saying something like that, less about someone like Bokuto.”

“Why?”

"You’re both different, totally opposite poles." He looked up again, fixing his golden eyes on the other's face. Akaashi looked hesitant as if he didn't know what to say. “But, if you like him, that's fine.”

“I don't understand what you mean.”

"Uh, don’t worry, it doesn't matter."

Before his friend could answer back, the sound of an impact and the subsequent roar of a fall distracted them both, causing them to face the source of the disturbance. Bokuto had just knocked out Kuroo, presumably with a punch to the nose, since the loser was on the ground, holding his face and whimpering. Both the omega and beta held their breath, waiting for the _explosion_. It wasn't uncommon to see alphas fight, and it was even more common when there were competitive activities; every day there were reports of street fights after soccer or volleyball games because some alpha members had been more exalted than necessary. According to what Kenma understood —and from experience having seen the horrible results of these conflicts— it was a mere subject of pheromones and domination, something like the logic in wolf packs; there can only be one leader, stronger and more capable than the others. That, as well as many others, one of the many reasons he didn't like alphas.

Luckily for both of them, the atmosphere remained just as calm, and even Bokuto helped Kuroo to his feet, asking him over and over if he was okay, apologizing while the other seemed not to care. Blood flowed from Kuroo’s nose, staining his bare chest with small crimson drops.

"Hey, are you okay?" Akaashi was the first to speak, standing up with the intention of helping. On his part, Kenma only observed the stage, looking specifically at Tetsurō's torso. There was something that bothered him, but he couldn't figure out what. “I'll go get the first aid kit.”

“Don’t worry, I'm fine!” Kuroo replied with a hoarse voice, pinching his nose to stop the bleeding. Despite being wounded, he had a broad smile on his face. “This knucklehead didn't even tickle me!”

“Akashi!” Bokuto's scream echoed throughout the room, he had stopped paying attention to his injured companion as soon as his superior spoke. Almost electrified, he approached the table where they were sitting, causing Kenma to flinch. His friend's partner was _really big_. “Did you see me, did you see me? How was my hook?!”

"It's Akaashi," the gray-eyed one corrected, calmly. The alpha seemed about to jump. “And, yes. It was great, Bokuto-san.”

“Akaaaaashi!” he replied, exaggerating the pronunciation. For a moment, Kozume believed that he would eventually implode or that an earthquake was occurring inside his body. _Energetic?_ It was like seeing the explosion of a nuclear bomb, with brightness and everything included.

As the two of them engaged in a kind of conversation —Bokuto explained what he had done and Akaashi listened, nodding from time to time and congratulating him on his great performance— Kuroo approached Kenma, who didn't notice his presence until he had it at his side.

"Oi, Kenma," Kuroo mumbled, leaning over him. He wore one of his typical long smirks. The beta cringed, trying to get as far away as possible from that mass of muscle and sweat. “How was my performance, huh?”

"If he beat you, it was for a reason."

“C’mon, I wasn’t _that_ bad!” he whined in response. “Why aren't you like Akaashi, and tell me something nice? My self-esteem is fragile, you shouldn't be playing with those things.”

“Cry then.”

“Kenma!”

Kuroo lengthened the 'a' longer while trying to hold the little beta in his arms. He rested his hands on the sweaty chest of the other, making a disgusted face when he got too close. If he could, he would have a couple of shots with the stun gun, to see if that way he would learn to respect personal space, but the short distance that separated them fucked him up. They were battling like that for a while, being a mix of whining from Kuroo and claims and insults from Kenma's side, until Kenma suddenly fell silent.

His gaze had accidentally gone to Tetsurō's torso, realizing what had disturbed him a few minutes ago: scars, dozens of them staining the skin of the other. Horizontal, vertical, and oblique; all of them of a soft white tone that extended not more than 4 centimeters. Thin, straight, so artificial that the detective soon associated them with a weapon.

_Those were old stab marks._

“Kozume!” A call from Akaashi managed to distract him, bringing him back to reality. Kuroo had gotten off of him, and everyone in the room was looking at him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” He shook his head, closing his eyes tight. Shame soon warmed his face, he hated being the center of attention. “Sorry.”

"I knew my torso was attractive, but not that I could even conquer men," Kuroo crowed, mocking what had just happened. Kenma was silent. “Bokuto, let's see if you get over that!”

“Akaaaaashi! Could you see my torso and tell me if it is attractive?” Bokuto exclaimed, turning to the omega. He blinked without understanding, with the soft shadow of a blush on his cheeks. “Please!”

"B-But..."

Kenma ignored the rest of the conversation, including Kuroo's shrilling laugh. With hair falling over his face, the images of his bare torso and scars replayed themselves over and over in his mind. He was able to count them, analyze them, and even create a brief simulation of how they had been made. An erratic assault, made with haste and resistance on the part of the victim, where the weapon was surely driven more than ever into one of the wounds. It must have been, at least, fifty stab wounds, and considering the possible ones that could be in the back and that he couldn't see.

He raised his head, focusing his eyes on Tetsurō. The sounds were far away like he was sinking into the ocean.

 _Why_ _would someone stab Kuroo fifty times?_

* * *

Sometimes Kenma wished he could ignore the little details.

It took almost three weeks to get those images out of his mind, and one more to stop dreaming about it. Every morning he woke up in cold sweats, feeling horrible pangs in his stomach and believing that his pajamas were covered in blood. He saw the bow formed by the knife, digging into his bowels over and over again, ripping them apart and spilling their contents; the crash against some bone, the strong metallic aroma filling the room, while a humid sound served as background music. Moans of pain, a muttered plea, and the laughter of someone in the distance.

Coming back to reality was a relief, although the questions didn't go away.

First, he tried to face Kuroo directly, avoiding mentioning that he already knew what the scars were. In response, he only received an _"I had self-esteem problems as a teenager"_ and, when he remarked how unbelievable that was due to the violence of the marks, he added, _"I had some really fucked up problems"_. That shit looked like a lie under his judgment, but he preferred not to insist; after all, why should he care? It was his partner's past, someone he barely knew two months ago, nothing else. It wasn’t a case to solve, he would get nothing in return for a truth that, deep down, little or nothing mattered to him.

In addition, it wasn’t polite to go poking his nose into other people's lives, especially when he himself complained every time Tetsurō asked him more personal questions. What if he was telling the truth? He would look like a dramatic person, a conspiracy theorist that had nothing better to do. By himself he already behaved like a weirdo, what image would he be giving to the newbie, who was not to blame for anything?

At the time he calmed that chaos with anxiolytics and his good hours playing Monster Hunter, but a moment came when that was no longer enough.

It was a Friday night, when they received a call at the station: a brutal murder had been carried out in the eastern part of the city, in an apartment complex for omegas. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were the first to leave to investigate the matter and then gave Kenma the notice to come.

"So what's the system like?"

Because Kozume hadn't been feeling well during the day —his lack of sleep and food did not quite sit well with him— Kuroo was the designated driver to come to the scene. It was an hour away from the office, and Kenma used most of the time to rest his eyes. He avoided talking to his partner as much as possible since he knew well the topic that would come up if that happened, but the other part did not want to cooperate. Kenma would have liked to slam his mouth shut, but the idea of crashing and dying between twisted iron and pieces of plastic wasn't very tempting.

“What system?”

"From the station, y'know," Tetsurō clarified, keeping his eyes on the road. They had taken the detective's car for the trip, so he had to accommodate the driver's seat so his legs did not hit the steering wheel. At times like this, Kenma realized the significant height difference he and that idiot had. “Are they all police officers, detectives, or does each one have their own role?”

"You came to work with us, you _should_ know that."

"Well yes, but actually no," he replied. He turned in a curve, causing Kenma’s body to flatten against the passenger door. He felt every muscle in his body screech at the centrifugal force, and he couldn't help but growl as the car stabilized again. On his part, Tetsurō did not seem to notice anything.

"A couple of years ago, we were working in the same building as the others, the Central," the detective murmured, trying to summarize the story as much as possible. The least he wanted to do was talk. “Since we had very little space and solved many cases, the chief there agreed to give us a place for our own to work, assigning Akaashi as the leader,” he continued. The alpha remained silent as if expecting him to say something else. At this, Kenma decided to answer his initial question. “And yes, we are all detectives.”

"Ah, I thought you were the only one," Kuroo replied, his tone filled with some relief. “I imagined that they exploited you or something like that.”

"Uh-huh, and why are you worried about that?" Kozume opened his feline eyes, fixing them on Tetsurō. Despite the twilight, the flashing light from the streetlights that passed on the road revealed a soft flush that stained the alpha's cheeks, but it was only a fleeting reflection. “I'm an adult, it's not like I don't know how to take care of myself.”

"You don't eat well or sleep long enough," he teased. Kozume growled in response, turning his body in the seat to look out the window. Talking to Kuroo was like talking to his mother. “If something happened to you, the team wouldn't be the same.”

"I don't do that much, either, I just put together the pieces that they give me."

"Of course not, you're the team's brain and spine," Kuroo replied seriously. The detective said nothing, waiting for an explanation at such a strange comparison. “You analyze and study the characteristics of the cases, taking the trouble to go to the scenes yourself to collect more data. You consider the testimonies of people when reconstructing scenarios—”

“That’s what _everyone_ does.”

"It's different, you go further," he continued, after the abrupt interruption of the other. From his tone, the alpha seemed serious. “There is a certain greatness in what you do, as if everything is under control. It reminds me of a cat hunting, trying to corner its prey after studying their behavior, and using that against them.”

"So, I'm a cat."

"Well, you have a very cat-like personality, but _that's_ not the point," Kuroo replied. He took a road exit, activating the flashing light before turning. Kenma's body lifted off the door, balancing for the duration of the maneuver. Then he laid back down, being shuddered by the lost heat. “The point is that you are important, and without you things wouldn’t work. The brain and the spine, and I would even say the heart.”

"You speak as if you've known me a lifetime, Kuro."

"Well, I've had time to ask the others."

“ _Stalker_.” The beta let this out between his teeth, believing he couldn't hear. But then again, things didn't go as expected, and the giggle that escaped Kuroo confirmed it.

"If you say it that way, it sounds pretty bad," he mumbled, the shadow of a smile on his face. Kozume sinned by looking too much at the other's face, being discovered and receiving a wide smirk in response. He could only look away and growl, hoping that embarrassment wouldn't appear on his face. His heart was pounding inside his chest. “Let's say that I'm only interested in knowing how things work, how the pieces work and affect the mechanism they’re part of.”

Kenma nodded silently, ending the conversation. He didn't know how to respond to Kuroo's words, no idea seemed enough to him after receiving so many compliments in a few minutes. He wished he could deny things, say that his job was much simpler than that and that he really wasn't such a relevant piece within the detective division, but was sure Kuroo would insist into the point. So, faced with the possible unpleasant scenario, he chose to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep, at least until they reached their destination.

Although as much as Kenma tried to think of other things, his heart was still beating fast.

He actually ended up taking a little nap, being awakened by the sound of a thump. He didn't have time to wake up when the door on his side opened, with Kuroo waiting for him with a slightly mocking smile. He felt his face burn, and was grateful that the street lighting was low. They were in front of a two-floor house sandwiched between two old buildings, it being so narrow and elongated that seemed to be crushed by the other structures. Outside of it, the characteristic yellow tape of the police beacon kept the area closed to the public, although there was no lack of onlookers trying to look out to see what was happening.

Kozume sighed, making a move to get out of the car when the icy breeze slowed him down, soaking him to the bone. Despite wearing his typical wool-lined coat, this was not enough to keep him insulated from the cold. His teeth chattered and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he tried to cover his skinny body with his arms.

"Well, it seems someone is cold," Tetsurō teased, spreading his narrow smile. The beta dedicated him a single irritated look, his eyes being a pair of golden daggers. “C'mon, don't look at me like that.”

Kuroo raised his hands in a sign of peace, as he proceeded to remove his own coat and extend it to the other man. “Here.”

"N-N-No, I'm f-fine."

"You can't even talk and you want to argue with me," he chuckled, holding his coat out. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, where Kenma tried his best to stop shaking, fixing his gaze on the balls of his feet. “C’mon, don't make me put it on.”

"I'm f-f-fine."

“ _Of course_ you are.”

“I’m b-b-being serious, Kuro!”

Kozume raised his golden eyes, piercing the others with his gaze. He tried to look confident, to demonstrate that he had no intention of giving in, but another cold gust of air made him shiver. His teeth collided with each other, and his eyes hurt from how cold they were, so he ended up closing them. Kenma would have liked to continue arguing, insisting that he was fine so Kuroo would leave him alone, but a sudden weight on his shoulders made him hesitate. He opened his eyes again, finding his partner's face closer than he would have liked. Tetsurō had leaned down, pulling his long black coat over him like high school students used to do with their girlfriends, settling him on the detective's puny body.

At that moment, Kenma only wished he could silence the pounding throbbing in his ears.

"You’re an important part of the team, I won't let you risk getting sick when I can do something." A kind smile spread across Kuroo’s face, softening his usual mocking expression. Kozume’s mouth went dry, and his heart seemed to jump to his throat. For a moment, that weird-haired nerd looked attractive to him... at least a _little._

"Kuro..."

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, looking at each other in silence. Their faces were at the distance necessary for their breaths to collide, blending into a single white breath. Kenma's cheeks were tinged red, and he couldn't tell if it was for the cold or something else. For the first time, the chaotic tide that was his mind was calm, crystal clear, and silent as a lagoon in full moonlight. And he would have liked to stay like this, wrapped in that soft haze, getting lost in the details of Kuroo's hazel eyes, but the world was still spinning, and it didn't take long for an interruption.

“Kuroo, Kenma!”

The sudden call of a familiar voice made both men flinch, they looked away from each other. It was Iwaizumi, who had leaned out the doorway of the house where they were to investigate. Despite wearing half of his face covered in a scarf, his frown indicated that he was upset, how long had he been watching them? “What are you doing standing there? It's freezing, come in, for god’s sake!”

Kenma just managed to duck his head, while Kuroo muttered something under his breath that he couldn't understand. They both resumed their way to the scene, the alpha being used as a kind of "human shield" before Hajime's irritated gaze. Kozume _hated_ being the center of attention, and even more after a situation as strange as the one he just had with his partner. His head turned into a storm again, causing him to shrink inside the borrowed coat, trying with all his might to be swallowed up by it and disappear. The least he felt was shame, and the rest of the things that filled his chest were unmentionable and so chaotic that he didn't even want to stop to consider them.

Damn, he wished he had his pills on hand, or a shotgun to blow his fucking brains out.

"Iwaizumi, how are things going?" The first to speak when they reached to Iwaizumi was Tetsurō, who spoke with a calm that irritated Kenma. Why could that asshole talk so easily, while he was about to suffer a nervous breakdown?

"The body was recently taken, in addition to the evidence. I took photos of everything” he explained, with a quite serious tone. Hajime had a professional camera around his neck, which he used as a means to record the different characteristics of the scenes. He was pretty good at what he did; he had an enviable pulse when it came to taking key photographs. “Oikawa interviewed the only witness and the neighbors, so we have more or less a complete map of the situation,” he continued. Noticing that Kozume was hiding behind the newbie's body, Iwaizumi leaned to the side to see him. “Kenma, it would be great if you check things out for yourself, after all, you’re much better with the details.”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, not looking at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi reciprocated with a short shake of his head, returning to the interior of the house. Kenma, meanwhile, had to pull away from Kuroo's side, feeling quite exposed when the alpha was left behind him, granting him the honor of being the first to enter. He wished that Kuroo would stick his politeness up his ass, but saying something like that would surely lead to weird comparisons and bad jokes.

He had had enough excitement for one night.

The first thing that hit the detective was the stench of blood, followed by other, more pleasant smells: star anise, honey, and a light touch of toasted almonds. That was the tenants' obvious hormonal residue, which he was able to deduce without even asking that they were an alpha-omega couple. Anise, being a stronger aroma, was quite typical in alphas, while honey and almonds — being somewhat of a sweeter and more delicate root — was typical of omegas. With this in mind, it was most likely the typical crime of passion of a jealous alpha, or maybe an omega tired of being subdued by his abusive partner. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, so he entered the stage with much more confidence.

The corridor was short, giving full account to the room that was used — according to what he could sense by the furniture and its location — as a living room and dining room. The walls were covered in white wallpaper with small blue flowers, while the floor was covered in a dark brown carpet; in the background, he could see the threshold that led to the kitchen, which had no door. There was an overturned table, plus a smashed vase next to it; also one of the sofas — there was two-body one, and another of three-body — slightly moved to one side, breaking with the obvious symmetry of the place. Those details denoted scuffling, so Kenma could know it was a violent homicide before looking at the main attraction:

The huge, dark bloodstain.

It was in the center of the room, next to which Oikawa was squatting, taking a sample with a stick, which he proceeded to store inside a plastic bag with a pressure closure. Focused as he was on his task, he did not look away until Iwaizumi cleared his throat to get his attention, at which point he raised his face with a grimace that seemed to precede a complaint until he crossed his chocolate eyes with the golden ones of Kenma.

Tōru's smile was _too_ sweet and childish for the context of the murder investigation.

“Yahoo, Ken-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed, in a soft voice. Resting his hands on his knees, the young agent stood up, straightening completely to his nearly 6'1" height. He was wearing a matching scarf with his checkered pants, plus a clean white coat that made him stand out against the gloomy stage. “You have a nice jacket, is it yours? It’s a _little big_ for you.”

" _Oikawa,_ " Iwaizumi barked, giving his partner an angry look.

“What? It was just a question, Iwa-chan.” An innocent smile spread across Oikawa's face, to which the other man simply replied with a grunt and a couple of muttered insults. Kenma preferred not to meddle, he would later thank Iwaizumi for the rescue. “Well, Ken-chan, what have you noticed?”

“By the smells, it can be deduced that it was an alpha-omega confrontation. There is a marked essence of star anise that must be that of the alpha, while the tones of honey and roasted almonds correspond to the omega,” said Kenma, reviewing the mental notes he had made when entering the house. Oikawa listened intently, while Iwaizumi had pulled out a notebook to write down all the details he was mentioning. “There was a confrontation, that’s why there is an overturned table and a broken vase. In the case that the alpha was the killer, it would have been a direct attack where his strength was an advantage. If it was the omega, it would most likely attack from behind or when the alpha was asleep. That could explain why the sofa was moved, but it has no blood, so it’s discarded.” His golden eyes darted around the place, as he strode toward the bloodstain. There were a few notches on the carpet, revealing that there was a wooden floor under it. “The marks appear to be those of a knife, presumably from the kitchen. Passionate homicide, with a subsequent ran away.”

“Wah, you really are fast with these things, Ken-chan! You make cases like this look so easy,” Oikawa replied when the beta was done. Kenma gave him a blank look, picking up the joke but laughing. Sometimes that pretty-faced idiot could make inappropriate comments, which is why he used to fight Iwaizumi. “But you missed a detail: the killer was not a single omega, but _two_.”

Kenma frowned slightly, still staring at Oikawa. Behind him, he could hear Kuroo shuffling his feet on the carpeted floor, maybe shifting the weight of his body from one leg to the other.

"The victim was a thirty-five-year-old alpha." Iwaizumi spoke this time, drawing everyone's attention to the scene. “She had marks on her wrists and forearms; those didn’t seem to be the marks that a rope would leave by rubbing, but rather by pressure, it’s easy to conclude that she was held by someone else.”

“Iwa-chan, I didn't know you could analyze things so well! Knowin’ that you don't have a brain.” Oikawa teased, with a smile. Iwaizumi gave him a single withering glance, which made him raise his palms as a sign of peace. “I'm kiddin’, y’know I love you very much and I appreciate your contributions!”

"Shittykawa," Hajime spat, before continuing. Kozume said nothing, he was already used to the strange dynamic that those two had. Along with Akaashi, they suspected that they had _more_ than a friendship, but didn't dare to ask either. “The point is that there was a third person involved: while one held the victim, the other stabbed her.”

"Sounds more like a reckoning, maybe personal revenge," Kozume murmured, turning his golden eyes back to the bloodstain. He imagined the scene described, with a huge alpha being attacked by two small omegas. One was holding barely, while the other stabbed them almost desperately. A scene too stressful to even visualize. “What state was the body in?”

"Well, pretty bad," Iwaizumi replied, motioning for Kenma to come closer. He did so, leaning towards the camera when the alpha turned it on and entered the gallery. The first image that came out was of a torso covered in blood, with the shirt half-lifted and the skin covered with deep cuts. There was a mass of a pinkish hue sticking out, which made Kenma wrinkle his nose. _Bowels._

“At least, there were about fifty stab wounds in the abdomen area, more than one close to the chest,” he continued. The photos were passing one after another, showing the body from different angles. The crime had been desperate, dirty, executed in such an inexperienced way that Kozume could hear the alpha's moans of agony as she perished under the yoke of the two omegas. “Most likely, she died from the hemorrhage, but the narcotics report isn’t ready yet, so it could be another reason. Maybe sleeping pills overdose or antidepressants.”

"Hm..."

The pics kept going, each one more horrible than the last. Kenma didn’t flinch in the least, he had already seen so many homicides pass before his eyes that one more wouldn’t make much difference. This kind of conflicts were always generated between omegas and alphas, even more so with the aggressive factor of alphas. Society saw it as something common, the daily bread in the local news; no one was scared anymore when an alpha killed his partner out of jealousy or in a rush of anger, or when an omega attacked his alpha trying to escape some situation of abuse. Seen in perspective and considering nature, maybe there shouldn't even be so much time invested in that kind of cases or create a thousand and one protection measures, not to mention the ways to calm pheromones.

Death was intrinsic to alpha-omega relationships, no matter how much humanity tried to deny it.

And Kenma would like to think like that, to be colder with those kinds of situations, but the same name always came up in his head: Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi was an omega, he could perfectly suffer that kind of fate. End up dead, with limbs scattered in trash bags strewn across the road, or maybe covered in another’s blood and hidden somewhere unknown, praying they wouldn't find him. Kozume, being a beta, didn’t have that kind of problem in general, beyond the typical fear of being robbed and the matter becoming violent. He could live his life quietly, without having to look over his shoulder every so often, checking that no one is following him.

He had been born with a piece of luck that not everyone had, but that didn’t leave him exempt from responsibility within the problem and had some consequences for it.

Being as engrossed as he was, Kozume didn't notice what was happening around him, until it was too late.

"Hey, are you okay, Kuroo?"

Such simple words from Oikawa — who had been on his phone while his teammates were looking at the photos — were enough to get Kenma's attention, as he turned his head in the direction the alpha was looking. What he saw was enough for panic to creep up his throat, a rippling wave that slammed into his wimpy body.

Kuroo was hunched over, one hand squeezing his belly and the other covering his mouth, absorbed in a catatonic state. A liquid shaded between yellow and green poured between his fingers, being an alert of what was about to happen. With his eyes popping out of their sockets, the alpha was shaken by an a retching, causing some vomit to spill onto the carpet. For his side, Kenma moved at an unexpected speed on his part, shouting something he couldn't even think of.

“Out, out!”

It slammed into the alpha's body, shoving him out of the house. They failed to reach outside, when Kuroo doubled over on himself, spurting vomit onto the side of the entrance stairs, landing on a bush. He held onto the outer wall with his huge hands, his legs and body shaking at each retching.

The stench hit Kenma’s nose, who was forced to cover his mouth and nose with his hand so as not to end up in the same state as his partner. His mind worked at full speed, making his thoughts collide with each other as he assimilated what had just happened. Kuroo had contaminated the scene, his DNA would be mixed with the victim’s and the perpetrators, the crime would become more confusing if any relevant clues were lost, training at the alpha police school was _supposed_ to prepare them for situations like that, that _shouldn't_ have happened, Akaashi would be scolded by the bosses, he could lose his job if the killers turned out to be more dangerous than they thought and killed more innocents.

Anxiety squeezed his chest, turning the simple act of breathing into torture. The emotions mixed with each other, generating chaos of which the only one seemed to stand out: _anger_.

As soon as that unfortunate spectacle was over, Kozume ordered Kuroo to wait for him in the car, then he entered the house again, heading towards Iwaizumi to apologize for what had happened and warn him that they would leave early. The alpha didn’t put any problem, in addition to asking if Kuroo was fine. Kenma didn’t respond to this, giving him a glance that was enough to end the conversation. Anger danced in his golden eyes, even causing Oikawa to hesitate before making an improper comment.

When he left the scene, Kuroo was already waiting for him in the car, this time sitting in the passenger seat, so he simply walked there and got on the driver's side. A mix between the acidic stench of bile, sweat, and the metallic alpha pheromones permeated the cabin, which only intensified the anger inside the little beta. With a sudden movement, he turned the key in the ignition and started the engine, then started the air conditioning. He kept his brow furrowed and his mouth turning a fine line across his face, concentrating as much as possible on not turning around and yelling at the alpha. He had to keep control, later he could unburden at Monster Hunter.

"Give me your address," Kenma murmured, keeping his eyes forward. He had both hands on the wheel, squeezing it so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

_“Sorry.”_

" _Give me your address_ ," he repeated, in a somewhat harsher tone. Anger was beginning to seep into his words, and the fact that Tetsurō was speaking to him in a sadder than worried tone didn’t help.

“I-I was fine at the beginning, I swear, I don't know what happened to me.” Kenma took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. The chaos in his head increased, filling with screams and raging roars. “I’m sorry, Kenma.”

“What is the fundamental rule when entering a crime scene?”

“Huh?”

“What is the fundamental rule when entering a crime scene?” he repeated, almost spitting out the words. He had turned his head towards Kuroo, drilling him with his golden gaze. The alpha seemed to hesitate at the attitude of the detective, who was tempted to curse under his breath. _“C’mon, _your superior_ asked you a question.” _

"... not alter anything."

"Yeah, and _what did you do?_ "

"I altered the scene," Tetsurō murmured, in a tone that could be compared to that of a scolded child. Kozume nodded, so tense that it didn't look natural at all. He turned his eyes forward, adjusting his feet on the pedals of the car and sitting as best he could on the leather seat. He had forgotten that Kuroo adjusted it for his legs, so his irritation increased a couple of levels. “I'm sorry, ‘kay? I thought I had everything under control, b-but—”

"Give me your address, I'll take you."

" _Please, Kenma._ " The beta had a gasp in his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe without feeling a pang. He was reaching his limit of patience. "I really—"

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" he spat suddenly, turning his head to give him an angry look. Kuroo was pale as paper, maybe mixing the consequences of vomiting with the tension of the environment. He didn't look good at all, but Kenma was too upset to stop at it. “You already fucked up the situation, and your mistake can put many people in danger,“ he continued, feeling the volume of his voice increase little by little. He wasn’t someone who liked screaming, it seemed exhausting and unnecessary, but now his emotions had taken control. “What if the culprit is a serial killer? Do you know how many people such a person can kill if he’s not discovered in time? Do you have any idea, Kuroo?!”

“I already told you I didn't mean to!”

Silence. Kenma’s expression remained unchanged, as the other's fell apart as his eyes crystallized. He sighed, turning his golden eyes back on the road, releasing the parking brake and starting the car. He mumbled the same question as before, which was answered in a similar volume. Neither of them said a word again or even looked at each other, letting the very sounds of the car and those who managed to sneak in from the road envelop them, being a kind of balm on their heads.

Kenma just thought about how many pills he would take at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! This is my first fanfic for the fandom, so i'm pretty excited about it. Kudos and comments are apreciated!!!! I'll try to translate the original work (it's in Spanish, my first language haha), tysm for reading❤️❤️
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09)


	2. Apologies and lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma begins to enjoy Kuroo's company, and maybe a small part of him that was dead is coming back to life.

The next day greeted Kozume with the taste of regret, plus a painful migraine.

After the fight with Kuroo, Kenma dropped him off by car to his house, which was within the periphery of what was known as the "alpha zone" in the city. Compared to other neighborhoods, the houses tended to be smaller than average: gardens and windows without bars, well-maintained paint, almost artificial green grass, and beautiful gardens filled with exotic flowers. If he hadn't been so upset, he might have made an acid comment on wage differences, but he couldn't even say goodbye to Kuroo. He just waited for him to get out of the car, before speeding back home. 

He arrived, slamming a couple of doors, yanking his clothes off until he was in shorts, his most comfortable state to be at home. He threw himself onto his medium-sized bed, where he turned on the PlayStation 4 he had saved a couple of months for and the affordable television his parents gave him for his twenty-fifth birthday. He opted to play Bloodborne, venting all the anger and frustration accumulated on the different monsters that were on his way. He moved the controls abruptly, erratically, spitting out a fair amount of insults at every hit that hit him and cursing loudly when he lost.

He stayed that way until he fell asleep, which must have been — according to the calculations he could make from the headache — four o'clock in the morning. He woke up when the midday sun hit him in the face, stabbing his eyelids and preventing him from continuing his rest. His body was heavy, and he could barely keep his eyes open without feeling a hellish burning. He didn't even deign to look at his phone or think about what time it was but went straight to the shower. The smell of blood still lingered on his nose, guilty of bringing back memories of the night before. 

Kuroo, vomit, _stabbing murder_. 

Those ideas danced inside his head, bumping into each other and laughing at him, pointing his imaginary fingers at his guilt. Not even turning on the cold water could fizzle them out, only making him feel his skin contract uncomfortably. He left the bathroom with a towel on his waist and another on his head, trying not to think about what had happened. He had done the _right thing_ , Tetsurō was to blame for not knowing his limits and contaminating the crime scene, he acted in the most reasonable and even admirable way. He _shouldn't_ feel bad for yelling at him, who wouldn't have? The tension of the situation was too much, it's natural for a human being like him to react like that, even more, when there are lives involved. 

And, while frantically going back and forth across the room, his foot hit something on the floor: the wool coat Kuroo had lent him. 

Guilt tangled in his chest, slowly crushing him as the alpha's face appeared his glassy eyes and broken expression. Had he been too hard? It was important not to contaminate the scenes, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi had already recorded the evidence before they arrived, not to mention that Kuroo had vomited rather away from the main crime zone. But, even so, it could cause problems, even if the probability was slim. Was it callous of him? He did not know the alpha so well, but he knew about the scars he had on his belly, although he clarified that they were _not_ stab wounds. But what if he _lied_ to him, out of embarrassment or something like that? It was plausible that he did not want to expose a trauma of that caliber, especially considering that he worked in the homicide department. Could the case have brought back horrible memories, and the vomit was the reflection of a panic attack? He knew about that _better_ than anyone, and more than once he had vomited even the first porridge out of anxiety. 

_What if he had behaved like a monster, and Kuroo didn't want to work with him anymore?_

The towel fell from his head; he had hunched over without noticing. Blond locks stuck to his face, as he looked at a fixed point on the wall. He still felt the jacket against his skin, so heavy it seemed like it was going to crush the bones of his foot. He felt like the most disgusting garbage in the universe for a few moments, before being interrupted by the well-known melody of Saria's Song. His body seemed to work again, making him move in search of the source of the noise. Kenma ended up finding his phone, which was half-charged between the sheets of his bed. He didn't need to look at the number of the incoming call to know it was Akaashi since he used custom tones for each contact. 

"Kozume, I'm glad you answered." Akaashi's tone on the other side of the line sounded... _relieved?_ He couldn't say it exactly, and the headache wouldn't let him think clearly. "You were taking longer than usual to get here, and I was beginning to worry."

"I forgot to set the alarm," Kenma murmured in response. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach, as he began to search for clothes to wear. Again, he was a nuisance to his friend. "I didn't get a good night's sleep, y'know."

"Iwaizumi-san told me what happened yesterday." He held his breath, feeling the headache intensify. _Of course, Keiji knew_ what had happened, being everyone's boss, that kind of thing had to be reported to him at any cost. And considering their years of friendship, he must surely have been more or less clear on what had happened in the car. "I guess you're still affected by that."

"It's just... the situation got over me, that's all," he replied, curtly. On the other side of the line, Akaashi remained silent, as if waiting for a detailed explanation. He knew him, could easily tell when he was trying to hold back like he was doing right now. "There were so many things, maybe I was too hard on Kuroo, after all, I didn't even let him explain."

"In what way?"

"He said to me 'I thought I had everything under control', but I was so upset that I didn't listen and kept scolding him," he continued, feeling a black cloud settle on his head. Before his eyes, the images from last night were played over and over again, the most recurrent being the face Kuroo made after he yelled at him. "I keep thinking about it, y'know? He may have his reasons, and I was shithead to him."

"It's not like you don't have yours," the omega replied. "It was a difficult situation where you did what you had to do."

"That _doesn't_ make me feel less guilty," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Perhaps he would have liked Akaashi to be tougher on him, less understanding than he was being, fueling that wheel of self-torture. "He went to...?"

"He called me in the morning to ask for the day off," he replied before the beta finished asking the question. That was like a punch in the gut for the detective, and Akaashi seemed to notice it on the other side of the line, so he hurried on. "He mentioned that he had a personal matter to deal with, and he didn't sound so bad."

" _I’m a stupid piece of shit._ " 

"... I don't think Kuroo-san or anyone else thinks that about you, Kenma." Akaashi's tone had softened, losing that professional aura he used to have most of the time. This was a kind of balm for Kozume, who felt the tension in his shoulders gradually dissolve. "As I said, you did what you had to do. I can even say that you were _considerate_ : not everyone can hold back to scold privately," he said. After this, he paused briefly, before continuing. "You can discuss it with him, and apologize if you wish. From what I've seen and heard from Bokuto-san, he doesn't seem to be someone bitter, and he respects you quite a bit, so I don't think he'll be upset about what happened."

"Hm." Kenma nodded, saying nothing. Both friends remained a couple of minutes in silence, barely listening to their breaths and the occasional noise in the background, such as cars passing by or distant conversations. He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the atmosphere was a little tense. "Well, how are things going with Bokuto? He seems very happy working with you."

"Bokuto-san? Well, great." The tone Akaashi used was far from his usual calm, so Kenma waited for him to continue before saying anything. "He still can't pronounce my name, but that's the least of it."

"You don't sound like everything is 'great', Akaashi Keiji," said Kozume, calling him by his full name. It was something he only kept for when his friend tried to hide something from him. "C'mon, tell me, nothing can surprise me anymore."

"He asked me out." Silence. That _did_ surprise him, and by far. He had noticed some prevailing chemistry between the omega and the alpha, mostly because of how Akaashi spoke of Bokuto, but he never imagined that the latter would take the first step so quickly. _Was his head full of air or what?_ "I don't know what to answer, and the fact that he looks at me with those slitty puppy eyes every time we cross... doesn't help.”

"Uh... Well, if you like him, accept."

"I don't know if I _really_ like him," he exclaimed, speaking much faster than normal. The beta couldn't help but smile at his friend's reaction, he was being _too_ obvious. "What if he has feelings that I can't reciprocate? It would be cruel of me to give him hope, and the work environment would probably be greatly affected…“ 

”You’re over-analyzing it," Kenma replied, having a slight sly tone in his voice. _You do the same, you stupid piece of shit_ , he thought. "Bokuto may be a knucklehead alpha, but he doesn't seem to be someone who would be complicated by something like that."

"I don't want to ruin everything." 

"I get it." Kozume sighed, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He tried to search for the answer in the damp spots but found nothing. "He may not be the right one, but I think you _should_ follow your feelings."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been excusing yourself all this time, so he must mean a lot to you." Akaashi had been trying to answer him for a couple of minutes, stammering and contradicting himself over and over, which made Kenma laugh. "C'mon, tell him yes."

"But what am I going to talk to him about? Of work? I give the plants a name, he'll get bored of me in two minutes."

"It's Bokuto we're talking about, as long as you don't give him long words, he'll be fine," he replied, shrugging. "He invited you, it is _obvious_ that he is interested."

“But—”

"But nothing," he cut him off. Kenma put a hand behind his ear, scratching it out of mere reflection. “Be confident, and accept. If it goes wrong, I'll invite you to eat something and nothing happened.”

"You make it sound easy."

"Well, _it is_." He thought he heard Akaashi mumble something under his breath, but didn't quite understand. "Listen to me. You are a great person, surely everything will work out and you will have another date."

"Well, he never called it _that_ way."

"It would be straight out of a movie if he said so," Kozume snapped, with a mocking tone.

They both laughed, breaking the tension of the moment. Kenma was no longer overwhelmed at all, having a nice warmth stomach instead of that unpleasant weight. His thoughts flowed naturally again, and the guilt had been reduced to its simplest expression in the back of his head.

"Thanks, Akaashi." 

" _Uh?_ " The omega replied, at the sudden words of his friend. "Why?"

"For calling me, I was having a bit of a hard time and... Well, thanks." 

"Ah, it's nothing," he replied, in a more lively tone. "Thank you for listening."

"Y'know, if something happens with Bokuto, just tell me and I'll break his legs." Keiji let out a sweet laugh, making Kozume smile. "What? I'm being serious."

"I know, I know," he replied. He released a happy sigh, laughing and returning to his usual formality. "By the way, I'll give you the day off. There is a murder case, but Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san went to cover it without problems," he exclaimed, hearing the sound of papers brushing against each other in the background. "Try to rest, okay?"

"Says the one who hasn't taken any vacations in two years," he blurted out. He could hear Akaashi snort, which made him chuckle. 

Both friends said goodbye and cut the call. Kenma stood for a moment, looking at the screen of his phone, thinking. He could go back to bed and finish Bloodborne, take a nap, and spend the rest of the day frolicking in pleasant solitude... Or he could go and fix things with Kuroo. He knew where he lived and how to get there, it was a matter of getting dressed and going there by car, nothing too complicated. He could even use the jacket as an excuse for his visit, saying he only went to return it, sweeping the matter from the night before under the rug with no problem. 

In theory, it sounded pretty good, but the weight did not disappear from his consciousness. 

" _Fucking rooster head,_ " he muttered, setting the phone down on the bed before looking for his clothes. 

Thus, Kenma dressed in the most presentable way he could, drying his hair and checking his reflection in the bathroom mirror more than once before leaving. With the jacket on the passenger seat and his heart beating like a racing horse, he set off for his destination. Having an internal debate, he opted for the oldest way to apologize: to bring a present. Since he did not know Kuroo completely, he thought that taking food that he liked would be enough, so he searched the city for a place that was both within his purchasing power and did not look so cheap to make him look like a greedy rat.

He ended up opting for a small traditional Japanese food restaurant, where he bought two portions of ramen and one of onigiri. He also bought a can of chocolate, which he drank in the car as he headed to Kuroo's house. During the day, the difference between the beta and alfa neighborhoods was much more noticeable, almost like jumping from one world to another: patios without bars, clean streets, sports cars everywhere, purebred dogs walking alongside their well-dressed owners and an amount of green —trees, shrubs, grass, etc.— that was not usually seen in other areas. Where Kenma lived, everything was much more industrial, gray, and dull wherever you looked. 

He felt out of place looking at so much beauty while he was a disaster. 

Upon arriving at Kuroo's house, he parked in front of it, climbing a little on the sidewalk to avoid disturbing the other drivers. He sat for a few moments, with his hands on the wheel and his gaze forward. What if he just returned home? He'd screwed it up enough the day before, and maybe Tetsurō didn't want to see him. Who would want, after all? He had treated him like shit, not listening to him, being a complete scum of a human being. He wouldn't forgive him, he was more likely to throw the food in his face before accepting apologies as pathetic as his. Why was he even trying?

_I don't think Kuroo-san or anyone else thinks that about you, Kenma._

Akaashi's words echoed inside his head, giving him a mental slap that brought him to his senses, at least enough for him to grab the food bag and the jacket and get out of the car. Fixing his golden eyes on the front door, he walked the short stone path that led to it, stopping a few steps away. He inhaled a great breath of air, raising his hand to ring the bell, when the door opened before him, making him jump.

Kuroo appeared before him, wearing something he couldn't see as anything else than an old man's pajamas, that still fit him well. 

"Hey, Kenma!" The alpha exclaimed, his typical long smile furrowing his face. Kenma did not reply, feeling that all the courage he had accumulated along the way had vanished from a blow. _Say something, you stupid piece of shit._

"How—?"

"Oh, I heard your car. As you are usually late, I ended up learning the sound of the motor," he replied, not letting him finish. The beta let out a soft ‘ah’, not knowing what to say. "Anyway, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be working on yesterday's case?"

"A-Akaashi gave me the day off." His mouth moved mechanically, almost robotic from how tight his jaw was. Why was Kuroo acting as if nothing had happened after what he'd done? "And I came to... _apologize_."

" _Oho?_ " The alpha's smile seemed to widen as if he'd heard a very good joke. Kozume, on the other hand, wanted to kick him hard in the balls to remove that expression, but he restrained himself. "The great detective, Kozume Kenma, came to apologize to a mortal like me? You move me."

"Just..." He wanted to insult him, he had the words on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it. His face had begun to burn, and it wasn't exactly from the morning sun. "I'm sorry, I was so harsh and didn't listen to you. It wasn't nice of me... and I feel terrible about it."

"Bah, don't worry," Kuroo replied, waving a hand to downplay the matter. "I just had a panic attack, nothing serious." Kenma wasn't sure what face he got after hearing that, but it was enough for the other to let out one of his hideous laughs, increasing the desire to kick his crotch. "C'mon, I'm kidding! God, you take things very seriously to be so small." 

"Shut the fuck up."

" _Cry then._ " Kenma blushed furiously at this, finding himself attacked by his own words, being the drop that filled his patience. With a quick movement, he jammed a kick in Kuroo's shin bone, who groaned.

"I brought you lunch," he continued, wanting to smile at the other’s pain expression. At these words, Tetsurō's eyes moved to the white bag that the beta was holding in his hands. "I'd rather shoot you in the face, but I spent money on this."

"Aw, did the great Kozume Kenma bring me food?" The alpha muttered, putting on an irritating tone. On his part, the beta tried to kick him again, but this time it was dodged. "Hey, hey, calm down! It seems considerate of you, and even cut—"

"If you say that word, I'm going to kick you in the balls." Tetsurō winced, covering his crotch out of mere reflex. "Now, can I come in, or will you leave me out here all day?"

"Okay, okay. Come in, inpatient sir."

Kuroo stepped aside, making a kind of exaggerated bow, just like a butler would in a movie. Snarling, Kenma entered the house, letting his eyes wander the place. Being an alpha's home, it was much more humble than he would have expected —as a detective, Kenma had the luxury of meeting even the greatest mansions— but without losing his class. The walls were pearl gray, while most of the furniture was a mix of black and white; the carpet was a couple of shades darker than the walls, while the ceiling had a white shade that tended to light up the room. The front door led directly into the living room, which also seemed to be used as a dining room by the long table and matching chairs. In the background, a doorless threshold, from where you could see part of the kitchen, which followed the ‘black 'n white’ aesthetic of the house. Carpeted stairs led up to what should have been the second floor, the walls of these being adorned with different black-framed photographs. The only thing that broke a little with the aesthetics of the place was a pair of ferns, which took away that artificial and cold aspect that it had.

Kenma felt like a stain of dirt between so much tidiness and neatness, only managing to leave the bag on the dining room table, while Kuroo went to the kitchen.

"So, ramen and onigiri?" Tetsurō exclaimed, returning from the kitchen with two pairs of chopsticks and glasses, napkins, and a large bottle of mineral water. Kozume nodded silently, before sitting down in one of the chairs. The alpha sat in front of him. “I thought you were more of pizza... or of not eating anything.”

"I am," he exclaimed. He received the chopsticks and glass offered by Kuroo with a gentle _thank you_ before continuing, "but I thought you wouldn't like that."

"Oho, that's considerate." A satisfied smile appeared on the alpha's face, making the beta's cheeks warm. "Then, thank you very much."

"... It's nothing."

Both began to eat in silence, hearing only the typical sounds of people eating. Having a moment of relative peace, Kenma's mind began to take its own course. Things had turned out much better than he had expected, making him feel somewhat ridiculous for worrying so much. In the end, Akaashi was right: Kuroo was not upset about what had happened, at least in appearance. If he hadn't closed the door on his face, it was for a reason.

With guilt gone, other thoughts picked up, polarizing his head. This being the case, where he wasn't upset, would it be rude of him to ask the reason behind that strange crisis? As much as he tried to forget it, the scars that Kuroo had on his belly reappeared again and again before him, causing the "consequences of low self-esteem" to lose more and more meaning. Those kinds of injuries were common among police officers —violent criminals were a problem, even in Japan— but it seemed strange to him that a novice had something like this, especially considering that, due to their appearance, they seemed to be quite old. Making a quick calculation, he could tell that they were over 9 years old, maybe 11 at the most, so —considering Kuroo's age, 22 years old— they must have been between the ages of 13 and 10.

It was too dirty to be suicide, as well as pretentious. Stabbing in the belly was painful, but did not necessarily have a high probability of being fatal. They had to touch some vital organ or artery, but he didn't think it was possible for a simple child to know that kind of thing. _A failed murder, maybe?_

"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo exclaimed suddenly. "Are you okay?"

"E-Eh?" Seeing himself snapped out of self-absorption, the beta blinked in confusion, dropping the chopsticks. These fell into the ramen's container, splashing the sauce on the black table. The other had his eyes riveted on him, making him feel tiny.

"You've been looking at me for a while," he clarified, straightening his back. A long smirk spread across his face, laden with amusement. "I know I'm irresistible, but it's _kind_ of awkward."

"Sorry," he murmured, lowering his gaze. He preferred to ignore the last comment, after all, he was guilty of triggering that situation. "I was... thinking, that's all."

"Oho-ho, about what?" Tetsurō leaned his body forward as if seeking to bridge the distance the table created between them. Kozume, meanwhile, moved away a little to keep it. "If it's possible to know, of course. If it’s private gamer stuff, I get it."

" _Gamer...?_ " He repeated, feeling a wave of cringe run through him. Only an old man or someone out of date would use that term non-ironically, and Kuroo seemed to be an ugly mix of the two. He had to shake his head to get that image out. "No, I just... I thought about yesterday, your reaction, and all that."

"Isn't it counterproductive to think about those kinds of things when eating? I mean, the body tends to react with that type of stimuli, imitating them for issues of possible intoxication." Kenma blinked a few times, staring at the other without saying a word. "What I'm saying is, if you think about vomiting, you may end up vomiting.”

"Actually, I was thinking about what might lead you to react like that."

" _Isn't it too early to talk about trauma?_ " he exclaimed, in an amused tone. The beta frowned, saying nothing. "I was just kidding, you don't have to make that face."

"It's important, I don't want to take you to another scene and having the same thing happen again."

"The mixture of smells made me sick, that's all," he clarified, shrugging. The beta kept his golden eyes on him, with an expression that read ‘I don't believe your shit’. "Come on, it's pretty gross to have nice things like honey and anise along with blood, not counting the corpse's smell.”

"Just that?"

"Well, Iwaizumi's description was also very... graphic?" He continued, grimacing. "Not all of us like to hear that someone's intestines leaked."

"It's more common than you think, wasn't it shown to you at police school?" 

"Of course it was, but seeing photographs is different from seeing in person," Kuroo explained. He stared at the beta, expecting some kind of positive response, but only received a shrug. "C’mon, don't tell me you don't care."

"Yes and no. There are things that you get used to, and others that you don't."

"Like the Dahmer case?” Kenma wrinkled his nose, making a grimace that made the alpha laugh. "Oho-ho-ho, sometimes you have a _very_ expressive face!"

"Why do we always end up talking about that?" He complained, pushing the plate of food aside. Images of freezers full of severed limbs and human heads danced on his head, making his stomach churn. "You are a pain in the ass, y'know?"

"Being a pain on the ass of someone as cool as you sounds good to me." Kuroo's smirk was sly, enough that the beta wanted to kick his balls. If they hadn't been sitting, he would have busted them. "Well, what do you want to talk about then?"

"Forget it, I don't talk to ass pains." 

Kuroo gave a loud, unpleasant laugh, at which Kenma kicked him in the shinbone under the table, making him yell. They went on with the meal as if nothing had happened, exchanging a couple of words from time to time, mostly about work. The beta ended up satisfied with half of his portion of ramen, giving the rest to his partner despite the complaints and claims that he released.

When the dishes were empty, they both stood up to lift the things from the table, throwing away the disposable and leaving the rest to wash. Despite appearances, Kuroo's company had been so much nicer than Kenma would have expected, and could even say that he was having fun at his side. He could be annoying and arrogant, as well as a complete nerd who made comparisons that the devil himself could not understand, but he was not a bad person. 

Of course, he would rather shoot his own foot than telling him and pump up his ego.

"Oi, Kenma." After sorting and putting everything back in its place, the beta believed it was time to go, but was stopped instead. Kuroo was looking at him with a strange expression, his mouth crooked and a hand resting on the nape of his neck, reflecting a certain embarrassment that Kozume did not fully understand. "Can I... ask you for a favor?"

"It depends."

"It's not something weird, I promise," he exclaimed, smiling. Kozume frowned suspiciously. "I need help putting together a piece of furniture."

" _Uh?_ "

"Someone very important is coming in a few days, and I'm supposed to have that ready," he explained, in a way that only confused Kenma. _What kind of weird friends did the rooster head have to make furniture for them?_ “It won't take more than half an hour.” 

"Okay," he said. "I'll help you."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, shrugging. A huge smile crossed Kuroo's face, making the little beta's heart jump inside his chest. "I have nothing to do, after all."

"Follow me."

The alpha waved at him as he walked toward the stairs the beta had seen upon entering. He followed him, letting his golden eyes roam the place. What caught his attention the most were the photographs, where he recognized Kuroo without much difficulty: apparently, he continued to have the same strange beaked hairstyle since he was a child. Was he a fan of emo-punk aesthetics, or just had bad-tempered hair? Kenma wasn't sure, but he couldn't help but chuckle as he imagined him with black outlined eyes and bangs to his chin. 

Reaching the second floor, Kuroo stood in front of one of the doors, opening it and inviting him to come in first. Maybe Kenma should have thought twice before continuing, look better at the furniture peeking out the doorway, or wonder if it really was a good idea to go into a locked room with an alpha, but he was so distracted thinking of an emotional emo-punk teenager, he just walked in. 

When he saw the bed, Kuroo had already closed the door behind him. 

Panic washed over him like a wave, causing his body to stay pinned to the spot. Had he just fallen into a kind of trap? Considering that he was in an alpha's house, a territory Kuroo should know as the palm of his own hand, it was not strange to think that he could take advantage of that. But _why_ him? Being a beta, he shouldn't be in any particular danger around such people, there was no point in Kuroo wanting to do anything to him, he didn't even have pheromones that would unleash a sexual frenzy. All of his senses seemed to sharpen, making Kuroo's usual metallic smell dance in his nose, making him dizzy and intensifying the anxiety that was growing in his chest.

At best, he could jump out the window and only break a few ribs. 

"I bought this thing a few days ago, but the instructions are in English and..." Kuroo had started to speak, passing Kenma's side to approach a box that had leaned against one of the walls, but stopped when he noticed well in the face of his guest. "Oi, are you alright?"

"U-Uhm." Kuroo's hazel eyes drilled into Kenma, making the pressure inside him build up. What could he say to him? _Please don't be a fucking alpha and rape me?_ "You...?" 

"Huh?"

They were silent for a couple of minutes, one of them about to have a nervous breakdown and the other without understanding what was happening. To Kenma's luck, the other's neurons seemed to synapse, realizing the situation they were both in. Kuroo's face, at that moment, was tinged with a furious red. 

"I-It's not what you think!" The alpha exclaimed, his voice shrilling. He waved his hands frantically, looking everywhere but at the little beta. "I-It's easier to put it together here, that's why I brought you, it's not like I have ulterior motives or anything, I swear!"

"Ah," he replied, feeling the flame of panic die out. His shoulders relaxed, and his thoughts returned to their usual course. "Okay, just... explain things first."

The alpha nodded, covering his face with his hands, and continuing with the apologies. In another context, maybe Kenma would have laughed at that exaggerated reaction to something as simple as an "apparent ulterior motive", but the calm —and joy, in part— that the thought of abuse did not even pass through the alpha's mind was greater. Living in such a wild and aggressive world, it was comforting that there were decent people, even if they were the most aggressive and favored gender of all. 

Thus, after the moment of tension, both men turned to assemble the blissful furniture, which turned out to be the typical cat tree scraper that only a passionate owner would buy. 

"Did you imagine something else?" Tetsurō asked, a long smirk on his face. They were sitting on the floor of the room, with the pieces scattered on the floor and the instructions paper on Kenma's lap, spread out. 

"I don't know."

"A friend's cat had pups, so I decided to adopt one," he began to tell him, as he picked up a bag that contained some screws. He looked at it closely, narrowing his eyes. "It's boring to be alone and all that."

"Uh-huh." The beta was not paying attention at all, concentrated on reading the instructions. He hoped that the little English he remembered from school would be enough.

"Do you have pets? Like, fishes or so."

"No," he replied, shifting his gaze to the pieces. If he arranged them, it would be easier to start assembling. "Why would I have fishes?"

"You don't seem like someone who likes noisy things." 

"I don't like having to be _responsible_ for others." He murmured, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Oho, and why is that?" 

"I usually... overthink," he replied, analyzing his words well. It seemed out of place to start sharing about his anxiety problems, let alone mention that he was forced to seek treatment for it. "Even the smallest things become huge problems." 

"Hm." Kuroo stretched his back, making a couple of ‘clacks’ sound. Kenma, meanwhile, began toying with the piece, which consisted of a tube covered with thick thread. "It sounds annoying." 

"It is, although it's not constant," he explained, looking up. As he had thought, the alpha was staring at him, with more interest than his nerves could process. "If it was, maybe it would be easier to cope with." 

"Does it appear randomly, or something?" Kozume shook his head, looking down again. 

"It usually happens when I think situations are out of my control," he clarified, clasping his hands in his lap. He began to play with his fingers, a hobby he had since he was young. "Just thinking that my actions can affect those around me, and screw them up in some way... It overwhelms me." 

"Is that why you got so upset the other day?" Kozume nodded, feeling his stomach churn again. His screams, Kuroo's shattered face, it was all _too real_ again. 

"The idea that the case could be complicated and that it would bring Akaashi trouble with the Headquarters was _too_ much," he murmured, quietly. He took a deep breath, slowly expelling it, before continuing. "That without counting the responsibility that I have as your superior, of course." 

"I get it." Kenma watched Kuroo out of the corner of his eye, catching every move he made. The alpha had rested his hands on the ground, leaning back as he stared at the ceiling as if searching for something. "You and Akaashi are close, right? You spend a lot of time with him." 

"We have been friends for a long time," he replied, shrugging. He relaxed his posture, ceasing to play with his hands. "Thanks to him I got to work on this, after helping him with the Dahmer case." 

"Ah, well, I'll thank him when I see him." From the way the alpha spoke, he could have guessed that had been kind of a joke but stayed as an attempt.

"Why are you interested in knowing, anyway?” He dared to ask, raising his gaze and fixing it on Kuroo's face. He had a smirk on his face, just like every time things went the way he wanted.

"Whenever we talk, it's about work," he explained. He seemed to notice that he was being watched, lowering his eyes from the ceiling and resting them on the other's, with a small smile on his lips. “If we are going to be a team, I would like to know more about you.” 

"My life isn't _that_ interesting." 

"It may be," he continued, "but that doesn't mean I don't want to get to _know_ you." 

The words stayed halfway, tangling, and becoming a mess in his throat, Kenma didn't know what to answer. His heart had begun to pound, as a pleasant warmth clambered up to his neck, _why?_

Silence. Despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him, he wasn't really uncomfortable. The company and closeness of Kuroo pleased him, much more than he would have imagined a few months ago. Who would say he would find himself that way, hanging out next to an alpha? He had always been somewhat suspicious of associating with such people, which was fueled by his experiences at work. They had the world prostrated at their feet, being able to get what they wanted just by snapping their fingers: fame, fortune, recognition, couples... What person in their right mind would not want all that? There might be disadvantages, such as the aggressiveness inherent in the gender, but that was the least of it. 

Envy was mixed with fear, but with Kuroo those kinds of feelings seemed to be diluted without further ado, like the traces of a bad memory. 

  
  


* * *

The following weeks were an unexpected turn in Kenma's life. 

After assembling the blissful piece of furniture, the alpha had asked him to exchange phones with the brilliant excuse of calling him if he needed help with any other matter that involved instructions in English. And, against all odds, Kozume accepted the proposal and gave him his number, feeling a strange emotion dancing in his chest when he saw Kuro's contact appear on the screen. They began exchanging messages almost immediately, being the first one to announce that he had arrived home safely, receiving an "I'm glad, I'll see you tomorrow" along with an ugly sticker.

In the office they also began to interact more than before, talking about things that had little or nothing to do with work. They ranged from topics as banal as which was the best season to more relevant ones like scientific matters, the latter being where Kenma tended to miss. Most of the time he preferred to listen to Kuroo speak, letting out a few words to encourage him to continue, this at least when there were topics that he did not master. However, the times they talked about video games the roles were reversed, and it was the alpha who listened intently as Kenma explained what he knew. Of course, there were also occasions where they only enjoyed each other's company. 

This was a complete new world for Kozume, even more considering the new sensations that began to fill him.

Getting up in the morning was no longer an ordeal, and he even started arriving on time instead of noon. Having lunch was no longer seen as unnecessary or unpleasant, becoming an expected moment of conversation, where work did not interrupt them. He felt full of energy, as if his body vibrated, which tended to intensify when Kuroo was around. At those moments he could say that he was happy, in a way that he had never been before. It was nothing like what he felt when being with Akaashi or the emotion that filled him when he consumed hours and hours of a game he liked. It was an effervescence, which started at the toes of his feet and moved along his skin until it filled up the most hidden corner of his body. Obviously, he decided to shut it up since embarrassment tended to invade him when he tried to give this chaos a name. 

But, unfortunately, not everything in the garden is rosy. 

The murders piled up one after the other, flooding them to the neck with work. From that (in appearance) unimportant case that Oikawa and Iwaizumi had covered during their day off, there was a chain of events with frightening similarities, alerting even the Headquarters. Assassins who killed more than once were rare, with typical isolated cases of reckoning or crimes of passion being the usual. The idea of a _serial killer_ on the loose was quite scary itself, and given the descriptions of the various scenes and the data provided by the forensic lab, the picture seemed to point to that. The tension in the office only seemed to increase, already becoming a palpable entity when entering the boss's office, where Bokuto's forest pheromones mixed with Akaashi’s, which resembled the smell of wet dirt. 

"Then let's recap." As expected and given the urgency demanded by the case, a meeting was concluded with the entire team, with Akaashi in charge of guiding the talk and Bokuto taking notes regarding the most relevant things. Kenma thought it was funny to see him type on his small laptop, brutally contrasting with his massive muscles. “All the corpses belonged to alphas, showing signs of strangulation and brutal beatings after the death of the victim.” Through a PowerPoint presentation, the omega went through the different images of the scenes and the corpses, while the others watched in silence. “The vast majority were found in garbage cans and areas of poor circulation, and there were no signs of theft. No trace of pheromones foreign to those of the victims themselves were found.” 

"Most likely they were made by an alpha," said Kenma, raising his hand and asking to speak. Beside him, Kuroo watched him as he spoke. “The shape of the marks on the neck indicates that they were made by hands, not to mention the color. To think that we are dealing with a beta or omega is absurd.”

"If it was an alpha, there would be _pheromones_ to analyze," Oikawa replied, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing square glasses, which made him look much less intimidating. Despite this, it was not enough to mitigate the aura of petulance around him. “In none of the cases was a trace of any essence found, aside of the victim's.”

"He may be protecting himself in some way," the beta fought back, shifting his gaze to the other. The gold and the chocolate collided, having a silent dispute before the other spectators. “Currently, there are methods to mitigate alpha pheromones, with patches being the most affordable. There are also pills, but I remember that it's still in the experimental phase.” 

"The patches are not fully effective, even less in violent situations," Tōru replied, frowning slightly. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, before continuing. “Hormone flow tends to increase in situations of stress or excitement, so in violent outbursts, something like a patch would not be enough to stop the alpha’s pheromones.”

"Not to interrupt," Kuroo exclaimed, cutting the dispute momentarily and drawing all eyes to him, "but the ‘essences’ thing is not something effective when analyzing crimes. Although useful, there are cases where pheromones are very weak or have odors that can be confused with those on the scene, such as blood or ammonia.”

"That's too _self-referential,_ " Oikawa replied, in a notoriously annoyed tone. “It is risky to assume that this is the case.”

"It's also risky to assume this is not an alpha, considering the evidence we have, doncha think?" A smirk spread across Kuroo's face, which seemed to further irritate Tōru, but he did not respond. Kenma, meanwhile, chuckled.

"Well, considering what Kozume said," Akaashi resumed. Tetsurō turned and winked at the beta, which he replied with an elbow in the ribs. "We could have a violent and careful alpha on our hands, who makes sure not to leave traces that we can track.”

"Have you got anything out of the fluid analysis?" This time, it was Iwaizumi who made an irruption.

"According to the laboratory report, nothing important has been found," replied the omega, while continuing to pass the images on the projector. The condition of the bodies was deplorable, to the point that some had so swollen faces that they became unrecognizable. “Not even fingerprints or some kind of DNA.”

"What about the background checks?”

"Most individuals don't fit the picture, and those who do have solid alibis," he murmured, raising a hand to his face. Keiji rubbed his eyes from under his thin-framed glasses, a movement that was enough to distract Bokuto from his relentless typing. 

"In short, our hands and feet are tied," Kuroo pointed out. 

"It's still early to say that, Kuroo-san," the omega muttered, with a slight tinge of irritation. At this, Kozume nudged the alpha, who muttered a swear word. “The case has not yet been declared as a serial killer since only five bodies have been found and it is hoped that they will be isolated cases. A criminal of this caliber can generate terror in the population or even the emergence of imitators.” The presentation came to the last photograph, where the corpses were lined up side by side. The similarities in the wounds were obvious, almost mimetic. “The other cases will be deferred while this one is open, and we will hold weekly meetings to see the progress. I need you to have your respective reports every Friday, without delay.” He sighed, motioning for Bokuto to turn on the lights in the room. “That's it for today, you can go to lunch.” 

The meeting was adjourned, and each agent took his own path. Kenma hurried back to his office, where his beloved PSP was waiting for him. He had put the console to charge as soon as he arrived in the morning, so the battery must be at 100%. He had planned to finish some missions in Monster Hunter that he left pending the night before when he ended up falling asleep from exhaustion. Well, he had _actually_ gone to bed early at Kuroo's insistence, but it wasn't a defeat he intended to admit.

Halfway there, he was hit by the alpha that haunted his thoughts, being stopped by a light touch on the shoulder. At some point, the barriers of non-contact had crumbled a bit, so now Kenma could tolerate Kuroo's unexpected touch without wanting to rip his head off. His body was still straining, but when he saw who it was, his soul returned to his body.

"Oi, Kenma," Kuroo exclaimed, his typical long smile. His hazel eyes were warm, ones the beta was no longer afraid to look at. “Bokuto told me he is going to eat at the nearby Johnny Rockets and asked if we would be interested in joining.”

" _We?_ " He repeated, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. It was one thing to eat with Kuroo alone, and quite another to do it in the company of third parties. Not that he particularly disliked Bokuto, but the idea of listening to him scream every word that came out of his mouth was not something that excited him. “Go if you want, I have things to do.”

"Akaashi will go too." Kozume's expression did not change at all. That his friend was there was a plus, but it was not enough for the outlook to improve. “C’mon, I’ll invite you!” 

"Why do you assume I will refuse for money?"

"You always do it when food is involved, unless it's apple pie or chocolate." The beta wrinkled his nose. It wasn't a lie, maybe he should start thinking of other excuses. “It will be fun!”

"And hear Bokuto's screams and stand his invasions of personal space?” He grumbled, his tone slightly sarcastic. “No thanks. I prefer having a stroke while playing.” 

"Oh, don't be so cruel," Kuroo muttered, as he put one of his long arms around Kenma's shoulders. The beta tensed, being attacked by a whirlwind of nerves. The alpha's body exuded stifling heat. “I heard they have the best chocolate milkshakes and a very sweet apple pie.” 

"Uh-huh.” His thoughts became a mess, where he couldn't articulate a word. Effervescence flooded his chest. 

"Please," the alpha begged, looking directly into the other’s golden eyes. The beta wanted the earth to swallow him. “It won't be so much fun without you, I _really_ love eating with you.” 

"... 'Kay," he relented, pushing Tetsurō away. One of his typical smirks formed on his face, as ugly and unpleasant as its owner. “But, as soon as you start talking about the fucking jellyfish, I'm leaving.” 

"Hey, that was _only_ once!” The alpha complained, which was answered with a grunt. At this, he pretended to be offended, putting his hands on his chest theatrically. Ugly _and_ ridiculous. “Besides you were the one who asked.” 

"I just said _'I didn't know jellyfish don't have brains’_ ," he muttered, shrugging. This time, the flood of information had been so effective that he ended up dreaming of jellyfish. “I never asked you to tell me _everything_ about them.” 

"I could say the same about you and your games."

"I tell you basic things, it’s not my problem that you are a _boomer_.”

"I'm younger than you!”

"Yes, but even a fifty-year-old man knows more about technology." Kuroo clicked his tongue, before answering. 

"Gamer." 

"Nerd." 

"Oho-ho-ho, how offensive!” He replied, losing his offended tone. He stretched out one of his huge hands, reaching for Kenma's head, stroking and ruffling it like a cat. The effervescence that filled the beta's chest went from bubbling to explosions. “I’ll wait for you at the entrance, don’t take long.“

" _Fuck you_." 

Kozume's voice came out shaky, in such a not-intimidating way that it only made Kuroo laugh out loud. His cheeks were stained red, causing him to move away from the touch of others and sneak into his office. The alpha's laughter rang in his ears even as he closed the door, rumbling against his eardrums and speeding up his pulse. He could still feel the suffocating heat surrounding his shoulders, and that unfamiliar weight on the top of his head, plaguing his black roots. Why was he so nervous? Normally, he would be uncomfortable with physical contact, having some anxious peak that would lead him to want to get as far away as possible, but _this_ was different. 

It did not bother him as such that Kuroo touched him, even more, he could say that he _liked it_ at some point. The feeling of someone else's heat, the delicacy with which he pressed his shoulders without wanting to hurt him, the way he stroked his hair gently, without pulling or entangling it... 

Kenma shook his head, erasing those ideas. With his heart halfway between his mouth and his stomach, he hastened to disconnect the PSP and put it in a pocket of his jacket, then went to the meeting place without further ado. If he overthought things, he would end up being victim of a nervous breakdown, or maybe guilty of first-degree murder. 

Leaving the office, he entered the next door in the hallway to the left, which led directly to the bathrooms. He hurried to one of the sinks, where he opened the water tap, bending down and using his hands to rinse his face. Lifting his head, he met the sunken golden gaze of a tired man. His black roots were out of control, reaching below his eyes, while the hair brushed his shoulders; deep dark circles, an unhealthy pallor staining his skin, and a certain blush on his nose from the cold of autumn. Rejection flooded his chest, he felt weird, in a way that he had not felt for a long time. 

He arranged the collar of his white shirt without a tie, trying to fit it well over his knitted sweater, but the image before him did not change. Tiredness, stress, anxiety corroding his gaze and making him move erratically, _how could he please anyone?_ He didn't even have an interesting personality or any talent that shone apart from his analytical mind. No one was interested in hearing about his games or the crimes he had to solve, and even less the speeches he made ranting against the alphas for being that, fucking alphas. 

_No one except Kuroo._

He wrinkled his face, sticking his head directly under the stream of icy water that still ran in the sink. 

"Oho-ho, it looks like someone got a little wet," Kuroo teased as soon as Kenma reached his side. His face was still dripping when he left the bathroom and headed for the entrance, his expression as indecipherable just like his gaze. _Or, well, at least he hoped it was_. “Did the bathroom attack you, or what?” 

"Is that the best joke you could think of, _really?_ ” The alpha shrugged, sticking out his tongue childishly. In response, Kozume rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to drown myself.” 

"Sounds serious, why?" 

"So I don't have to stand your ugly face, but it didn't work." 

"At police school, they had me as the most handsome in my division, y’know?" He clarified, smiling from ear to ear. The beta looked at him askance, saying nothing. _Why does Akaashi and Bokuto take so long?_

"What a bad taste.”

"There were many who drooled over me, alphas and betas." 

" _Collective bad taste._ " The other's smile disappeared, apparently offended. On his part, Kenma couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips. “Maybe some general delirium from food poisoning, or something in the air. The possibilities are endless, y'know?” 

"Do you get paid extra for being a gremlin or what? 

"You have to live out of something.” 

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head and opening his mouth to reply —some idiocy, probably— but was interrupted by the noisy arrival of the missing couple. Bokuto arrived, as always, making a great noise with his screams and laughter, being closely followed by the silent figure of Akaashi, who looked more like a ghost than a person. Being already in a group, they headed towards the restaurant where they planned to have lunch, which was about five streets away. The alphas went to the head, talking vigorously about things that Kenma did not fully grasp or was interested in, but could not help but wince. 

The aroma of a forest after a storm hit him directly in the nose, mixing with the metallic stench that he already knew so well. It sickened him, but not exactly because of the strange combination. 

"You really do have a very expressive face, Kozume." Akaashi's soft voice caught his attention, enough to divert his gaze from the pair of idiots in the lead. His friend had a serious expression, although there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"How do you handle _the pestilence?_ ”

"Bokuto-san wears patches and we leave the windows open," he explained. The beta frowned at this response, which made the other continue. “It's not like his pheromones smelled that bad, it's like... an air freshener.“

"That doesn’t mean it doesn't stink." The beta put a hand to his nose, pressing it and wrinkling his face. This made the omega chuckle. “What are you laughing at?” 

"I'm surprised you complain about Bokuto-san since Kuroo-san's smell is worse." 

"Don't fuck with me, Kuro's pheromones are much less intense," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he kept pinching his nose. “I don't even feel them all the time, only when he's too close.” 

"Hm? Does he get _too close_ to you?" 

"Y-Y'know, he can be kind of invasive," he replied, feeling a slight nervousness creep up his throat. Suddenly, he felt Akaashi's eyes scrutinize him more than necessary. “That rooster head doesn't know the definition of personal space.” 

"I get it.” They were both silent for a moment before Kenma spoke. 

"So how did your date with Bokuto go?" He asked, changing the subject. 

"Ah, it was nice," Akaashi replied, with some nervousness. He had turned his gaze away as if searching for something among the cars passing them on the street. “We went to a cafe and talked.” 

"Uh-hu, and what did you talk about? 

"Things we like and stuff like that, he said he thought it was nice to collect plants." The omega's cheeks flushed slightly, which made him smile to the other.

"You seem happy.” 

"Uh? Well, yes, something like that,” he replied, speaking quite quickly. Kozume let out a _‘hm?_ ’ rather insistent, accompanied by a widening of his smile. It was _so_ obvious. “He is... pretty cool.” 

"You are too," said the beta, giving the other a significant look. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before nodding, accepting his words. “I'm glad everything went well.”

"Me too.”

"Akaaaaaaashi, Kenma, we're here!” 

A sudden shout from Bokuto ended the conversation, causing them both to step up. They had already arrived at the Johnny Rockets, where they were greeted by the pleasant heat of a central heating system and the unbeatable smell of grilled hamburgers. It was like entering a diner from the 50s, with the typical jukebox in one corner and a chess design floor, contrasting with the brightly colored and plastic-looking furniture that looked like a toy. Neon lights, waiters on rollers carrying bulky orders on metal trays, long glasses with the restaurant's name bumping into each other, the murmur of other people's conversations and the laughter bouncing off the walls. 

Kenma felt the walls crush him, and he could only hide behind Kuroo. 

" _Hm?_ ” Tetsurō's body seemed to vibrate at the sound, or so Kozume felt. Those pair of hazel eyes fell on him, increasing to an unexpected extent the pulsations of his heart. He felt that he was going to die.

" _Don’t say anything_.”

"I wasn't going to do it," he replied in a whisper. He placed one of his huge hands on the beta's head, stroking his hair briefly, before continuing on his way with the rest in search of a table. 

That caress reassured Kenma, enough for him to catch his breath. He had always hated crowded places, so restaurants as popular as that were out of his comfort zone, at least until now. In part, he was embarrassed to act so strangely, but it wasn't something he could easily control. The tide was rising, pressing harder and harder on his head, making him feel like he would explode at any moment. Even if he took his medications, those kinds of situations tended to outweigh him, which only made him feel like a weirdo. He watched crime scenes almost daily, _how could a crowd overwhelm him more than that?_

At least, this time he had the imposing presence of Kuroo to camouflage himself. 

They sat at one of the tables that had one of those padded seats for two, alpha with alpha and omega with beta. Kozume clung as closely as possible to the wall of the premises, keeping a safe distance from Bokuto —his energetic personality overwhelmed him— and from the hallway, in order to have as little contact as possible. The alphas continued their noisy conversation, including him and Akaashi from time to time. He used to answer with head movements or monosyllables, preferring to keep his eyes on his phone. 

The menu didn't take long to come, being delivered by a young waitress with an "α" embroidered on her vest. Kenma gave her a single look, quickly analyzing her features and expressions. It was common to find young alphas working part-time in places like this, although they soon left the position when a better opportunity presented itself. They were not like omegas and betas, who had to crawl through the mud in order to keep a job and kneel before the alpha on duty in order to have a decent salary. It was gross, but there was no use protesting. 

Like a jungle, the strongest thrived by crushing others. 

"Welcome to Johnny Rockets! My name is Tanaka Saeko and I will be your waitress" the woman said, with a wide smile. She had short blonde hair, revealing her ears full of piercings and earrings. Despite her imposing appearance, her eyes did not have that arrogance so common among alphas. “What do you want to order? Today we have our coffees and shakes on sale.”

"I want a Double Smoke House!" Bokuto replied, pointing enthusiastically to the menu. "And a big Coke!"

"Noted." Saeko wrote what the alpha had said in a small notebook that she had in her pocket, before turning to the others. “And you?”

"I'll have an Expresso," Akaashi replied.

"And I a Rockin Salad," Kuroo exclaimed, smiling.

"Well, well.”

When the alpha finished writing, all eyes went to Kenma, who had been playing with his fingers for a while. He really wasn't hungry, but the pressure of the eyes led him to pick up the menu and look for something. The burgers looked oily and disgusting, and the salads had more vegetables than he could tolerate on one plate. He frowned, going to the dessert side, hoping to find something.

His gaze lit up.

"Apple pie," he murmured. He did not receive a response from Saeko, who was still waiting for the request, so he repeated what he said a bit higher. “A-Apple pie, I want an apple pie.”

"Oi, you can't just eat that for lunch," Kuroo demanded, making the gesture of removing the menu. Kenma frowned, growling. “You need something more healthy, with the necessary nutrients for your body.”

"It’s _my_ order, not _yours_."

"Kuroo-san is right," Akaashi interrupted, looking at his friend. He wrinkled his nose. _Since when did those two agree to_ _bother him?_ "You have to improve your diet.”

"As if a cup of coffee was a good lunch." A thunderous laugh erupted from Bokuto, as Akaashi winced. It was not so obvious, but it reflected embarrassment. “I'm not going to ask for something I don't like.”

"Kenma, no—”

"C’mon, let him ask what he wants!” Bokuto spoke this time, interrupting Kuroo mid-sentence. “The idea is to have a good time, not to argue about food!”

The debate went on for a while, this time being a versus between the two alphas and the omega, who occasionally blurted out some comment. In the end, they ended up yielding to the immovable position of Bokuto, who gave Kozume a wide smile as they ordered. So bright, it felt like looking directly at the sun, something his dirty eyes couldn't contemplate. In one way, he could understand that Akaashi decided to go out with a guy like that, despite being — apparently — a knucklehead, as well as a stinky alpha.

Maybe he could give him a _chance_.

The chatter around him continued, but he remained lost on his phone. He caught vague ideas, holding them for a few seconds before losing them. Occasionally he felt Kuroo's eyes on him, but they were such minute moments that they didn't seem to matter. What could he contribute, anyway? He’s never been the type of person to have lively conversations, or have interesting topics to share. If it wasn't about work — an unacceptable option, Akaashi was too stressed — it was his games, or maybe some complaint about the change in weather. He was a boring person in many ways, enough to fill him with insecurity and heighten anxiety. 

_Talking was wrong, but not doing it too._

Saeko's arrival with their orders was like manna from heaven, a perfect excuse to avoid interacting with the others. He couldn't help but feel his mouth watering at the sight of the beautiful apple pie topped with a slice of vanilla ice cream. With the plate in front of him, he had the slight feeling that it was much more than it should be, which he verified when looking at the alpha.

"You seemed to like it a lot, so I cut a little more," Saeko exclaimed, winking at him. “Take it as a gift, enjoy your meal!”

As soon as the woman left, Kuroo gave him one of his playful smiles, getting kicked. They began to eat without further ado, occasionally hearing Bokuto call Akaashi by his name, offering him his hamburger while the other refused at first, ending up yielding to the puppy eyes that the alpha dedicated to him. Kozume couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a mixture of tenderness and disgust at so much nonsense. In his life, he had been interested in love relationships, beyond a mere "scientific curiosity". 

He had hugged, kissed, and fucked people in the past, but never passed to something more serious than unbridled passion. Sex was fine, he couldn’t deny it, but that "something" that was mentioned in romantic movies, love that broke barriers and devastated everything in its path... It was not something that he could understand. If he felt it, it wasn't a big deal, and if not, it wasn't something he desperately craved. Could it be that there was something wrong with him? It wouldn't be a surprise, considering the list of negative aspects he had. _One more thing on the list, how many more were missing?_

He shook his head, trying to dispel those thoughts, the tide rising again. He filled his mouth with pie, letting the sweetness wash over his tongue. He had not eaten one of those for a long time, it was not something he could afford and his skills in the kitchen were null when he wanted to prepare something like that.

"Someone looks happy." Kuroo's voice was enough to interrupt his thoughts and make him look up. The gold collided with the amber, making his heart flutter. “You like it?”

"Hm," he agreed, his mouth full. He swallowed, resigned, he would have liked to hold a little longer that piece of heaven brushing his palate. “I really like apples, more on a pie.”

"Oh, I thought you preferred chocolate." He denied, which caused a long smile to appear on Tetsurō's face. He seemed pleased. “Well, I'll keep that in mind _next time._ ” 

He wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Bokuto's voice rose before he could even formulate something in his head. 

"Oi, Kuroo! Why do you eat with gloves?” That comment was enough for Kenma to notice his partner's hands. Sure enough, he was wearing a pair of black gloves. “Dude, that looks very uncomfortable.” 

"Ah, I just... I'm cold," he replied, with some nervousness. A strange sensation settled in the beta's stomach, who couldn't help but stare at the other. _It reeked of lies_.

"C’mon, they have heating on and everything here." 

"I'm fine, really," he insisted, laughing out loud. He looked from side to side, being eaten away by nervousness. _Too obvious_. “My fingers turn blue, it's gross.” 

"... It's not like it matters," Kozume muttered, stepping into the discussion. He was staring at Kuroo, not even bothering to blink. “It’s not as if we are going to say anything.” 

"Kenma is right!” Bokuto seconded, to which the other nodded. The alpha's nervousness seemed to increase, enough to make him scratch the back of his neck and look away. “We are partners, after all! Blue fingers won't make us hate you.” 

"Guys, really—"

“Bokuto-san is right," Akaashi exclaimed, in his usual serious tone. “Eating with gloves is counterproductive, not to mention that you can get them dirty.” 

"See? Even Akashi thinks it's okay for you to take them off!” The alpha insisted, being corrected by the omega regarding the pronunciation of his name. 

"It _couldn't_ be worse than Bokuto's scent," Kenma muttered, loud enough for him to hear him but the others didn't.

And Kuroo, pressured by the looks and insistence of others, ended up giving in. He removed his blissful gloves, exposing the skin on his hands, which was a color far from blue. His knuckles were bruised, presenting a reddish-purple color, as well as some cuts on his phalanges and recent scabs. This was not product of the cold —an obvious thing— but of repeated impacts, probably consequences of a fight. 

Kozume couldn't help but grimace, wrinkling his face. Hundreds of images went through his head, with different characters and settings, but always reigning the same concept: _violence_. A bitter sensation invaded his mouth, taking away the urge to continue eating. The other was an alpha, after all, it was in his genes to act that way. Imposing power through blows, using his pheromones to subdue others and get what he wanted, that story he had heard a thousand times already. 

And still, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. 

"Last night some guys got annoying at the bar, and we ended up fighting," Tetsurō clarified, at the excessive attention on his hands. He hid them, unsurprisingly, while Kenma frowned further. Alcohol and violence, _great_. "It wasn't a big deal. Those bastards were tough, it was like hitting a wall.” 

"What? Did they offend your honor or something?” the beta murmured, with a bitterness that surprised even himself. His head was buzzing, a chaotic swarm of mixed thoughts and feelings, questions he didn't know how to ask, and complaints that were beside the point. The sensation in his stomach clouded, turning into heat that burned his chest. “Or maybe a nice omega got in the way?” 

"No, it wasn't like that!” he exclaimed in response. Both Bokuto and Akaashi remained silent, maybe too impressed to say anything. “I was at the bar, drinking peacefully, and they came over to fuck me.”

"Uh-huh” 

"I'm a good person, I wouldn't start a fight out of nothing.” 

"The way I see it, 'good people' don't get into bar fights," he replied, intentionally emphasizing. Kuroo's nervousness seemed to intensify, which only irritated him further. “Y'know? I think I _need_ some air.“

"But you still haven't finished your apple pie…” 

"I'm not hungry anymore." Kozume fumbled in his pockets, pulling out his wallet. At this, the other made a gesture of wanting to stop him.

"Oi, I said I was going to invite you, you don't have to pay." 

"Oho, are you going to punch me if I pay?" He asked, breaking the alpha's expression a little more. He received no response, so he continued with what he was doing. He took out a couple of bills and placed them next to his plate.

He asked Akaashi for permission in a whisper, being caught by the sleeve of his jacket halfway. It was Kuroo, who was staring at him ruefully as if he didn't know what to do. He expected something, even if they were brief explanations, but nothing happened: the other released him, hiding behind his bangs. _One more alpha, as irrational and coward as the rest._

Kenma left the restaurant without looking back, his face shadowed. The cold outside was like hitting a wall, making him —for a few moments— long for a certain tall presence that could give him his coat, but he immediately crushed that thought. Disappointment embittered every ounce of his body, mingling with a certain concern that he tried to suppress, without success. The tide was surging, slamming into the walls of his head. 

He sighed, heading to the nearest shop. _He needed a cigarette._

* * *

Kenma was nowhere near an avid smoker, though for the next three weeks he longed to have been. 

The cigarette had entered his life when he was still a minor, being an affordable balm for his anxiety, and this lasted until his twenties, where he could save enough money to catch up and go to therapy. He didn't say anything to his parents about it, more than anything because he hated the idea of being a burden. Who would want to have a son like him? The very idea of disappointment on their faces was a thorn in his heart, digging deeper and deeper. 

Despite this, he couldn't help but fantasize about going back to vice, mostly to have an excuse just to get out of his office and avoid Kuroo. Because, yes: to this day, he was still giving him the cold shoulder, but the problem was that he respected his space. In another context, he would not care, and he would even have appreciated that the alpha did not press him, but the emptiness that existed in the office was eating him away. The anger ended up being a screen of his concern, of that anguish produced by the idea that Kuroo was involved in alpha fights. There was also disappointment, that was undeniable, but a certain feeling rose above all things. 

_Missing._

Laid conversations, those knowing glances, the occasional touch of their bodies, the internal jokes, those small gestures that only they understood... He _missed_ Kuroo, in ways that he didn’t think were possible. And it was weird, considering the fact that they were still seeing each other and could fix things by talking, but the pride of the beta wouldn't allow it. The alphas were like that, proud, waiting for the others to take the first step, and he did not intend to be another pawn in that disgusting game. He was a person, not a pet, he had every right in the world to be bothered and wait for an apology when the other part was the wrong one. 

Still, _it hurt._

"I'm going to the bathroom," Kenma announced, standing up. It was Friday night, and closing time was approaching. Between the blinds, there was only darkness and the occasional fleeting light from a car. 

"Ah, okay," Kuroo replied, without looking up from his laptop. He was finishing a document, presumably some report that he should send to Akaashi. The beta waited without moving a muscle, which made the other lift its eyes and look at him. “Uh, is something wrong?” 

"A-Ah, no, just..." He swallowed, feeling his pulse rise. “Nothing, wait for me before sending anything.” 

"Gotcha.” 

He looked down again, continuing his work, as Kozume slipped out of the office. His heart was pounding, _why had he done that?_ It was obvious that the alpha was trying to be cordial despite the conflict, keeping his distance so as not to make it worse, work came first after all. So what did he expect? Kuroo had been his partner for less than 5 months, someone who entered his life by an order from the Headquarters to expedite the work, nothing else. Sometimes they might talk about more personal things and send each other a couple of messages, but that was all. 

A cordial treatment, as any work partner would have. 

He grimaced, going into the toilets and closing the door behind him. He was greeted by the fluorescent lights and the shiny white tile floor, which made a thumping noise every time he stepped on them. Going to the bathroom had been an excuse to speak to Kuroo, as was obvious, although it also served to clear him. He felt the tide rising higher, pounding again and again against his head. His thoughts were a mess, and his heart seemed about to explode every two times. He had already taken his daily dose of medication and had even added one more pill to try to calm the storm, but it was not enough.

If he didn't calm down, he would end up collapsing. 

He took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket's pocket, the same pack he had bought when leaving the Johnny Rockets. He had smoked that day to distract himself and dispel the discomfort a little, and today he would do it to dilute the anxiety. Memories of adolescence filled his head when the filter touched his lips and the typical click of the lighter echoed in the place, being intensified by that sweet smoke. A puff brought him back to his fourteen when he first tried the cigarette and ended up choking in smoke. He remembered the burning in his throat and eyes, the feeling of his numb tongue, something so unbearable that he didn't think he would do it again. 

Another puff and he thought about his first kiss. It was with a beta boy, from who could only remember his black hair. They had both been smoking for a long time, hiding somewhere in the school where the teachers couldn't see them. It had been a mere brush of lips, where the ash flavor predominated. 

He let the smoke out through his nose, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. With that same beta, he had his first time, where they had also smoked a lot. He remembered snippets of scenes, moans, and his name being mentioned between groans. It was not something that changed his life, aside from being able to say that he was not a virgin anymore. After that, they did not last more than a couple of months and decided to end their relationship by mutual agreement. Simple and boring, like the rest of his life. 

He took another puff, holding the smoke in his lungs for a while, before exhaling. Once, he had to smoke fast, worrying about covering himself with deodorant spray and getting his hair wet to camouflage the scent, pretending he had a cold to justify his raspy voice. His parents never knew about his addiction, which he would not know whether to be proud of or not. Did he even have the right to complain about other people's lies, when he was the first to do so? If it wasn't about feelings, it was about his health, or even in small things like whether or not he had eaten breakfast. And he kept doing it, even then, sneaking a cigarette in the bathroom. 

_You're really a stupid piece of shit._

"I didn't know you smoked." Kenma winced at the voice of Akaashi, who had poked his head through the bathroom door. The omega didn't seem bothered, but he still felt the shame creep up his neck as he removed the cigarette from his mouth. “Do you have another? I would like one.” 

"Oh yeah.” He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out the pack next to the lighter, offering it. His friend took a tasty cigarette, going into the bathroom and closing the door again as he lit it. He took a long puff, closing his eyes. “How are things going?” 

"They found two more bodies," he replied, his voice hoarse. The gray omega's eyes, usually bright and serene, were sunk in their sockets, surrounded by the dark tone of dark circles. He looked tired as if he had been sleepless for days. “With that, there are already seven dead, soon they will raise the alarm in the city.” 

"Uhm, sorry," he apologized, without really having a reason. Akaashi nodded, turning his gaze to the ceiling as he took another puff. For his part, Kozume's cigarette was consumed in his hand. “What about Bokuto? Did you go out with him again?” 

"I haven’t had time.” The beta nodded, letting out a soft ‘ah’. “I guess something happened with Kuroo-san for you to be here, did you two argue again?” 

"No, we just... _we didn't talk._ " The other blinked a few times thoughtfully. “It's not so important either, it's nice to be able to work without hearing his irritating voice every now and then.” 

"I understand," he replied, in a soft voice. “Haven't you tried talking to him?” 

"Why should I do it? _He_ fucked it up, not me.” 

"Well, I don't think Kuroo-san is going to take the first step." Kozume frowned at this, not understanding. “He is quite... _respectful_ to you, so to speak.” 

"I'm not going to apologize, he lied to us before our fucking faces." 

"I'm not saying apologize, but start the conversation," he clarified, shrugging. The omega pulled the cigarette from his lips, rubbing his face with his free hand. The glasses he was wearing slipped to the tip of his nose, so he had to adjust them before continuing. “He won't invade your space unless you allow him to.” 

"I already tried, but he doesn't say anything," he murmured, lowering his golden eyes. The thorn in his heart sank a little deeper, burning everything in his path. _Why did something like that hurt so much?_ "He just... looked at me, and then kept working. I said I was going to the bathroom and waited, but we didn't get anywhere.” 

"Maybe he thought you were serious."

"Damn, since when do I use these toilets?" He grumbled, making a disgusted face. At this, the omega giggled. “Oikawa cleans them, I'd rather die than touch anything here.”

"Maybe you should be more... _explicit_ ," Akaashi said, analyzing his words before concluding. He tilted his head, shaking the hand that held the cigarette, leaving a trail of smoke as he explained. “You haven’t known each other for so long, it's normal for him not to get the hints immediately.”

"And what the hell am I going to tell him?” Kenma asked. Again, he felt anxious, and the sweet scent of nicotine was no longer enough for his system. If he could, he would have taken the whole pack and smoked it all at once, but didn't think he could fit so much into his mouth. "’ Hey, I know I was shitty with you, but I miss talking to you about things other than work, and I'm sorry.’"

"I thought you didn't want to apologize," he commented in response. Kozume snapped his mouth shut, repeating his own words in his head, realizing what he had said. He blinked a few times, feeling a suffocating heat creep up his neck. _Was it him, or was the bathroom on fire?_ "Well, it doesn't matter. Maybe you can start by asking how he is, I remember he mentioned that he adopted a cat recently, that can also work.”

"U-Uhm, I suppose." _‘I must think before I speak,’_ he repeated to himself over and over, lowering his gaze to avoid his friend's eyes. Too sharp.

"No matter what, it's your decision," Akaashi continued, softening his voice. He brought his free hand up to the beta's head, brotherly fondling his hair. At the contact, he raised his face again. “Everything will be fine, I promise.” 

"What if it isn’t? _What if he hates me?_ ” The buzz appeared again in his head. Actions and opinions merged, making him lose his way.

"‘ _Be confident. If it goes wrong, I'll invite you to the movies and nothing happened._ ’" Keiji exclaimed, smiling. “I suppose we can apply the same.”

"... Did I sound so ridiculous saying that?”

"I don't think it was ridiculous, thanks to you I agreed to go out with Bokuto-san" he muttered in response. He gave one last caress to the beta's head, before removing his hand. He raised his left wrist, glancing at the time it dictated. “Speaking of which, I should go back to the office. I have to send some reports, close the week and prepare everything for the next one.” Kenma nodded in response, looking down at the remains of his cigarette. The fire was reaching the filter, trying to bite his fingers. “Iwaizumi will be in charge, but I will need your help.”

"Sometimes I want to swap roles with you," he muttered, frowning. Just like every month, the heat caught Akaashi, knocking him out for a few days where someone responsible had to replace him. At the station, they were already used to that routine, but it did not mean that it was annoying. If already being a spectator it seemed shit to him, he did not want to imagine what it would be like to live it in the meat of an omega. “It’s... _unfair_.”

"Well, I couldn't be calm if you were omega," he exclaimed. Although it was a joke, there was a hint of sincerity in his words. “I would live worried about you.”

"It's not like I don't know how to defend myself, y'know?" Kenma blurted out in a sarcastic tone. “I put three shots and a kick in the ass of the alphas.”

They both laughed at this, staying in comfortable silence where their gazes stayed connected. Akaashi said a short goodbye, snuffing out the cigarette end against the metal trash can before throwing it inside, leaving the bathrooms. Thus, Kenma was left alone again, surrounded by smoke and chaotic feelings. He didn't think about it too much when he moved to put out what was left of his cigarette and throw it in the trash, as well as approaching the sinks to get his face and hair wet.

_Everything will be fine, I promise you._

He wanted to believe those words, put them inside, and embed them in his heart, but the anxiety was still there. What if Akaashi was wrong? What would he do? He didn't feel capable of dealing with that kind of rejection, let alone when feelings for the alpha had already gone into unknown territory. The mere thought that he no longer wanted to know anything and avoided him terrified him more than anything else.

_If Kuroo hated him..._

"Shit," he spat, slapping his cheeks with his palms, leaving red marks on his skin. If he overthought now, it would be over.

He left the bathrooms with his face dripping, and his posture was as tense as if a stick had been shoved up his ass. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing, but when he got to the office and suddenly opened the door, he was able to concentrate all his energy in one sentence and release that avalanche of anxiety and emotions that flooded his chest.

"Let me see your hands." His voice, despite coming out at a decent volume, was much drier than expected. It sounded like an order, and the expression Kuroo put on as he turned in his chair was a poem.

_"What?”_

"L-Let me see your hands ... please," he repeated, faltering a little. He wished he could hide in a hole and never see the sunlight again, he felt ridiculous.

"...Okay," replied the alpha, freaking out, spreading his arms. Kozume moved closer, picking them up in a way that was not at all relaxed. His fingers trembled, and the anxiety of being rejected after so much effort gnawed his insides. “Did something happen in the bathroom? You look weird.”

"Your hands look good," he replied, ignoring the question. There was nothing left of the knuckle wounds, not even the shadow of any scar. He knew that the regenerative power of the alphas was good, but that was already ridiculous. “Do they hurt?” 

"No... not anymore." 

Silence. Their hands remained connected, brushing Kenma's cold skin against Kuroo's ardent. They were both sweating, too nervous to even look directly at each other. The beta thought his heart was going to go out of his throat and his eyes would explode in their sockets from the pressure, but he still ventured to speak. 

Everything he had planned, what he talked to Akaashi just a few minutes ago in the bathroom, was no longer important. The words faded into his mind, exposing what he had tried to hide all along: _guilt._

"Kuro... I'm sorry about what happened," he murmured, feeling his voice come out like a thin trickle. He swallowed, expecting a rejection, but there was only silence. “I got overwhelmed and treated you like shit, without listening to you. I was childish, and I'm sorry.” 

"A-Ah, don't say that!” The beta looked up, encountering a scenario he would not have expected: the alpha's face was tinted red, and his eyes moved from side to side, fraught with nervousness. It confused him, but he said nothing. “I am the one to blame. I lied, I should have told you the truth from the beginning.” 

"You could have your reasons. I shouldn't have insisted, let alone replied to you that way.” 

"That doesn't justify anything, and y'know it." He was right, although he couldn't claim anything to him. After all, he used to lie, much more than he would like. He was rubbish. “It was stupid... _I'm stupid._ ”

"Me too," he murmured. 

"You are not! You were just worried, that's not stupid.”

"It is when you end up making others feel bad." He spoke hastily, the words colliding against each other. A distant buzz, approaching as his pulse increased. 

"I am telling you it’s not.” 

"It is.”

"It isn’t!”

Unexpectedly, Kuroo's hands released from the others, going to Kenma's cheeks. 

A heatwave, followed by suffocating effervescence. Long fingers that seemed to want to gobble up his face, brushing his skin so delicately that it was overwhelming. A pleasant touch, which was enough to silence the storm inside him with a single blow. There was no trace of the buzz, and he felt unimaginable clarity when it came to thinking, even if he really had nothing. His mind was blank, but not like those times where emptiness gnawed at him, making him feel useless, but something warmer.

He was _calm_.

"Stop apologizing and saying that you are the problem!” Kuroo's voice almost thundered against his ears, penetrating the silence. His expression was serious, but his eyes betrayed him. Worried, maybe bordering on anxiety. “I was the one who lied, the one who couldn't say shit when you got up from the table!” He spoke quickly, even though each word seemed like a stab. “It's not your fault Kenma, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way… _I’m sorry_.”

"Kuro..."

Silence, the amber collided with the gold. The alpha's chest rose and fell chaotically, while he wasn't even sure if he himself was still breathing. The lagoon, as crystalline as that time where he lent him his coat, stretched to infinity in his mind, as his heart warms his body with every beat it gives. The lights around him felt warmer, comforting, almost as if they had been swallowed up by sunset. The little details, those things that made him desperate to points he couldn't imagine, were no longer important. This time there were no interruptions, no grumpy partners who entered the scene to separate them, or any homicide to attend. It was just him, him and Kuroo, floating in space, letting their gazes melt into each other.

Absorbed, the beta's body leaned, while the other's stood in his chair. Closer and closer, their breaths mingled, the sweet stench of tobacco met iron, and their hearts coordinated their beats to seem as one. They approached until they saw the different colors in the iris of the other, to differentiate one eyelash from the other, to distinguish the small freckles that stained their faces.

Maybe he should have slowed down, stepped back, and thought better, but the clarity of the lagoon was unflappable. Like a mirror, it reflected the warm colors of the sunset, of those two souls that danced closer and closer. 

And so, he ended up kissing Kuroo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited posting this chapter! I didn't think that this story will be so supported, and still today it's difficult to believe. Thank you all for your comments and kudos!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09)


	3. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings grow stronger, and old wounds are open again. A confession and a couple of tragedies, and the thorn sinks deeper and deeper into Kenma's heart.

By now, Kenma was beginning to believe that he lived in a bad taste tragicomedy written by some lunatic with a terrible sleep schedule.

After that unexpected kiss, Kuroo had been the first to react, cutting off the contact and yelling a sort of apology. His face was as red as a tomato, and he could barely connect two syllables without stammering. On his part, Kenma didn't even flinch, acting naturally, almost creepy. And it wasn't like he was faking calm, but he really felt that way. His head was still a crystalline lagoon, so he had no difficulty saying, "it's okay", taking his things and saying goodbye as if it were the end of any day.

And so he stayed, stuck in a stupor where anxiety couldn't touch him, at least until he got home.

As soon as he closed the door to his apartment and hung the keys on his _The Legend Of Zelda's_ key holder—a gift from Akaashi for his 25th birthday—, his neurons synapsed, causing his knees to buckle and embarrassment to reach every bit of his body. The scene played out over and over before his eyes, dragging his mind to a vortex of cheap cheesy music and images.

He kissed Kuroo Tetsurō, the lying bastard he had been complaining about just a week ago, swearing and vowing that he would not speak to him again until he apologized for being a dick. That alpha, with his hideous hair and laughter, with hands so big that they looked like _pycnogonids_ —abyssal spiders, he had learned the name only to annoy mister attempt-of-biologist— and a humor so nerdy that long explanations were necessary to understand his stupid jokes. The same one who petted his head delicately, who respected his space and times, who always seemed to have something sweet to raise his glucose at the right times and the owner of that pair of amber eyes that made him lose his breath.

To say Kozume was a clown fell short: he was the whole fucking circus.

And he would have liked things to stay there; maybe he would have ended up handling it and suppressing the little "incident" only to that: a stupid thing he did for who-knows-why, but his mind didn't have enough of it. Apart from the fact that the memory appeared in the worst moments —meetings where he could not just go, or when he had to visit crime scenes, and even during important games—, he began to have strange dreams, and the word "strange" fell short. Sometimes it was just him with Kuroo, kissing again in different places, sometimes in the office, sometimes — when he was lucky — in the void. That wasn't really an issue when there were other things on the menu.

Like wet dreams.

For some reason that he couldn't quite understand, some dark and dirty corner of his disturbed mind woke up with that stupid kiss, unleashing a number of fetishes and fixations that he didn't even know he had. Suddenly, the alpha's huge hands became something he found genuinely attractive, leading him to fantasize more than ever when he was in a stupor between sleep and wakefulness. Long, strong fingers, pressing down on his flesh, caressing places where sunlight rarely came, sending shivers down his spine and drawing shaky sighs from him.

And, if that was not enough, little by little others were added. Mouth, legs, arms, torso and thighs; each part that by itself caused nothing, seemed to become terribly erotic if it was from the alpha. How the hell could he get hot from things like that? He couldn't quite figure it out, but he could at least say he hadn't gotten to the point of having a foot fetish; if he got to that point, he would grab his gun and shoot himself.

He would have liked to feel anxious about the matter, as stupid as it sounded. That way he could feel displeasure, hate madly those fixations he was developing, but things never went as he wanted. As much as he tried, Kuroo seemed more attractive every day, either in parts or as a complete individual. His mind was emptying, being that crystalline lagoon that reflected everything, while impure feelings swarmed making his spine tremble. He was really screwed — he masturbated with all the shame in the world, but he did it after all.

Oh, what would his mother say if she knew he had a _thing_ with hands?

Outside of his erratic fantasies, things took their course. The relationship with Kuroo became strange, he couldn't deny it, but the discomfort was not constant. Sometimes it appeared when they were in his office and interrupted each other by accident, at which point they both hesitated and ended up embarrassed as if they were two teenagers in love. And, of course, something like that was to be expected from the alpha at his 22 years, but Kenma was already close to 30. He felt ridiculous, but at the same time a certain warmth arose in his chest that comforted him, an effervescence that curved his lips and made him smile for no reason.

_Was it possible for a kiss to lower a person's IQ?_

"Kenma!"

Among other news, Akaashi's heat was a pretty heavy topic. It wasn't that they weren't ready or anything like that — they'd been on the same routine for almost five years —, but there was a new factor at play: _Bokuto_ . The poor alpha swarmed like a ghost from one side to the other, looking at his phone every so often to check if his beloved boss —and maybe future boyfriend— had sent him a message, muttering in case that didn’t happen. He really was behaving as if someone had died, and they failed to cheer him up in any way. And Kenma, unfortunately, could not help but feel sorry for him, a fact that led him to do things that he never would have done for someone else. This alpha was like a puppy, and rejecting him was equivalent to kicking one, _who in his right mind enjoyed kicking a puppy?_

"Hm?" He replied, without looking up from his phone. It was Tuesday, the second day without Akaashi in the office, and Bokuto seemed on the verge of insanity. For this reason, Kuroo had told him to stay for lunch with them, an idea with which Kenma agreed. He would not be alone with the rooster head and could distract the other a little, it was killing two birds with one stone.

"Do you want to try my onigiri?" exclaimed Bokuto, hope brightening his yellow eyes. The three were sitting around the table, each with their respective lunch. This, in Kozume's case, was a cup of cocoa and a plate of rice and fish that Tetsurō prepared for him. If he hadn't thrown it over his head, it was out of respect for Kōtarō. "I was watching cooking tutorials last night, and I want to know how they turned out!"

"Oho, and since when are you interested in cooking?" Kuroo blurted out, a derisive smirk on his face.

"I was thinking—"

"A miracle." The beta kicked his partner, who yelped. Bokuto was silent for a moment, looking at them without a specific expression, before continuing to speak.

"Well, I was thinking that Akaashi doesn't look very good. He is always stressed, and still strives to help me whenever he can," he explained, unwrapping his bentō. The box was red plastic, and big enough to hold a good amount of food. At a minimum, it should be a portion for two people. "So, I said to myself 'hey, why not have a surprise for him?', so I started looking for something to do, and I ended up thinking about preparing onigiri. He seems to like them a lot."

"Well, yes," said Kenma, which was enough fuel to thrill the gray-haired alpha. A wide smile appeared on his face, in addition to that typical vibration that shook his histrionic body. If it had been someone else, he would have thought he was having an aneurysm.

"Isn't it great? He will surely be very happy and say something like 'Bokuto-san, you are so...!'" Silence. The alpha's face wrinkled as he moved his huge eyes from side to side. He looked like a broken machine. "Ah, how do you say when someone cares about others?"

"... _Considerate?_ "

"Yes, considerate!" The others laughed, but Kōtarō's excitement did not lessen one bit. "He'll say something like 'Bokuto-san, you're so considerate,' and he'll agree to go out with me again!"

"Dreaming costs nothing," Kuroo teased.

"Kenma!" Bokuto called again, to which Kozume released another ‘hm?’ under his breath. "So, do you want to try? You know Akaashi better than anybody, it would help me to know your opinion."

"Uh, fine," he replied, without giving it much thought.

The alpha's eyes lit up as he opened the bentō and offered its content. They were three simple white rice onigiri, with the respective black seaweed surrounding them. They didn't look bad, and could even be said to have the perfect shape and size, but there was something that did not fit. Maybe it was the strange smell that came from them or the fact that they looked _too good_ to have been prepared by a beginner, but Kenma didn't have the heart to refuse food at this point. He picked up the one that looked smaller, bringing it closer to his mouth and taking a small bite.

Saying he didn't want to spit it out was a lie, at least when it came to the stuffing. The detective tried not to grimace, swallowing that chew with difficulty. He could feel it go down his throat, going from his esophagus to his stomach, feeling like a kick that brought a couple of tears. He took a quick look inside the onigiri, feeling a chill at the sight of a uniform greenish dough. _Was that supposed to be meat or vegetables?_

He opened his mouth ready to give his verdict but noticed Bokuto's hands, which were covered in band-aids, mostly as far as his fingers were concerned. That was enough to make his heart contract, feeling a mixture of tenderness and pity for the alpha. _How could he be such a motherfucker to tell him the truth and ruin his dream?_

"... It's good."

"For real?!" Bokuto's emotion was like an explosion, and Kenma could only nod silently. If he got distracted, the contents of his stomach were sure to end up coming back the way it came. "This is so cool! _I am_ so cool!"

"Are you serious?" Kuroo muttered, freaking out at the surrealism of the situation. Kozume nodded, blinking to clear his gaze. "Don't fuck around, you look like you're going to pass out."

"I'm fine," he spat. The gray-haired alpha seemed to pay no more attention to them, immersed in celebrating his achievement and yelling ‘hey hey hey!’ to a non-existent audience. Again, Kozume's heart contracted, he was surprised that Akaashi hadn't died of tenderness yet. "You want some?"

"I don't eat shit."

Kenma rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Bokuto, who was offering him more onigiri again, noting that not all of them had the same filling. And so they spent the rest of the lunch hour, behaving like any other group of friends. They laughed and joked, talking about things far related to their job as detectives. For a moment, the whole serial killer thing didn't matter, and the paperwork they'd have to do later didn't even cross their minds. They were happy in their little bubble, at least until the poor beta's stomach took in the food.

From there, the nightmare started.

Kozume began to feel that the world was spinning, being forced to go to the bathroom. The initial idea was to get his face wet, but when he felt something creep up his throat, he had to run to one of the toilets to vomit. Since Kuroo and Bokuto had accompanied him there, they managed to help him a little, although they couldn't do much. His eyes were watering, and his stomach contractions were as violent as they were painful. The alphas were quick to start arguing, one apologizing for what had happened and the other scolding him as if there was no tomorrow, leaving the poor beta aside.

That show ended up attracting the attention of the other members of station 512, which only fueled the chaos. Oikawa was the first to arrive, complaining about the scandal they were making, only to join a few minutes after seeing that they had messed up the bathroom that he himself cleaned a few hours ago. After that, Iwaizumi arrived, who began to put order through blows and angry screams. This alpha was the only one to react as a responsible adult, taking Kenma in his arms and pulling him out of there.

They ended up in the hospital, Kozume drinking small sips of mineral water that Hajime bought and on a three-day medical license, plus a bottle of dizziness pills.

Kenma was brought home after that, receiving Iwaizumi's help to go up to his apartment. It should be said that he tried to refuse, arguing that he already felt better after vomiting, but the dizziness from the loss of fluid was a good reason for the other to insist.

"Call me if you need anything," said the alpha. After leaving him in bed with the bag of medicines and the bottle of water, he returned to the door and left.

Kenma nodded, waiting to hear the ‘click’ of the lock to lie down on the bed. There had been _enough_ emotions for one morning.

For the rest of the day, he devoted himself to sleep, getting up from time to time to drink water and go to the bathroom, moments he also used to answer Kuroo's insistent messages. Apparently, that idiot was really worried about what happened, which he did not fully understand. Truth be told, it was not the first time that he experienced food poisoning, and it could even be said that he was used to getting sick from those kinds of things. It was the first time the effect had appeared so quickly, yes, but it was still not a big deal.

"You can die from it, ya know?" Kuroo exclaimed during one of the many times he called him on the phone when he didn't receive a response to his messages. "You have to be more careful about those things."

"Yeah, like I know a stupid onigiri could poison me," Kenma replied irritably. The alpha's insistence was tiring, and with the stomach ache and intermittent nausea he had, his patience wasn't in the best shape. "How is Bokuto?"

"Oikawa forced him to clean up the mess in the bathroom." The alpha replied, relaxing his voice a little. "With the little you eat, it was surprising how much you threw up."

" _Gross,_ " the beta growled, grimacing. Talking about his own fluids was strange, and even more so when someone else did it. "Why are you analyzing my vomit?"

"At least, I have the decency not to say it at lunch," Kuroo blurted sarcastically. They were silent for a few moments, time in which Kenma took the opportunity to have a couple of gulps of water. "... Are you really okay?"

"I'm fine, seriously," he replied. The alpha's sudden concern puzzled him, he wasn't used to that kind of treatment unless it was from his mother or Akaashi. "I'm used to this kind of thing."

"That only makes it more worrying."

"Really, I'm _fine_ ," he insisted. Another silence, it was easy to imagine the expression Kuroo would have: furrowed eyebrows and crooked mouth, his eyes slightly shadowed. He sighed. "Look, if you want... You can call me later."

"Are you sure? You usually hate me calling you."

"I can make an exception." Although he sounded stupid, he thought he saw before him the smile that crossed the other's face, making his heart skip a beat. Since when had he become so susceptible to that sort of thing? "But text me before you do, or I will fucking block you."

"Oho-ho, are you still upset about the time I interrupted your game?" The beta growled, feeling a rush of irritation run through him. He still remembered the _YOU DIED_ screen flashing before his eyes, a humiliating reminder. "I already told you it wasn't on purpose, I'm not such a bastard."

"Uh-huh, yeah." A loud laugh forced him to take the phone off his ear to not to turn deaf. Sometimes he wondered if that alpha was actually a hyena. "So, you better warn before calling, or I'm _really_ going to be upset."

"Okay, okay, I will." Kenma nodded silently. He switched on the screen of his cellphone, ready to cut the call, when the alpha spoke again. "O-Oi, Kenma!"

" _God_ , don't you have paperwork to do?"

"I just want to ask something," he clarified, to which the other growled. "It’ll be quick, I promise."

"Go on."

"Would you like to… go out?" Kuroo muttered, his voice trembling. Silence, only his breaths were heard. "Y-Y’know, to eat and walk."

"Uhm, with Bokuto and Akaashi?"

"No, just you and me."

Kenma, at that moment, felt that he died for a few seconds, at least until the electric current appeared. Every apex of his body erupted in chills, as small shocks shook his spine. Blood concentrated in his face, ears, and neck, while his heart was beating with such dizzying speed that it seemed about to explode. He lost his breath, his head was spinning, with an information overload that ended in silence. A crystalline lagoon, reflecting a sunset; the sun, giving its last breaths, kissed the surface, flooding it with warm colors, as if it were on fire.

And so was he, _burning._

"Kenma?" Kuroo's voice erupted like thunder, echoing in his empty mind. "What do you say?" 

"Uh." He wanted to answer, but there weren't even words to connect. Sweat stained his forehead, as he looked from side to side for his voice. "Hm."

"Hm?"

"I-I mean, _yes_ ," he murmured, feeling embarrassment staining his cheeks. For a moment, he thought he was a teenager again, too clumsy to express his ideas. "Yes, I... I would like to."

"Really?" Tetsurō exclaimed, with genuine surprise. Kozume nodded out of inertia, before muttering a soft ‘ _yes’_. "G-Great! We can go for coffee and then tour the city... If you want, of course!" The alpha spoke hurriedly, to the point where he barely understood himself. "It would also be good to go to a restaurant, you can choose it, so you will have food that you really like and—"

"Kuro," he interrupted, stopping that verbiage. He took a deep breath, searching for the right words before continuing. "We'll see it then, okay?"

"Oh yeah! I'm sorry to bother you with things like that in your state."

"Don't be, it's just... a _lot_ of information," he clarified, rubbing his face with his free hand. He was still blushing, and his heart was piercing his chest. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," replied the alpha, still with some nervousness in his voice. There was a sigh on the other end of the line, as if a great weight had been lifted off him. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me. I will watch out for your messages."

"Okay."

They said goodbye and cut the call. Kenma felt his heart in his mouth, beating as fast as the nervous flapping of a moth. He dropped onto the mattress, bouncing, the fizz climbing up the tips of his feet and hands. His mind was still calm, clear, mixing with an emotion that came from the bottom of his stomach. He smiled, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time, while covering his face that only seemed to get hotter and hotter.

He would have a date with Kuroo.

* * *

The _Song of Storms_ woke him up, making him jump in bed.

It was dark, and the digital clock on the nightstand read ‘3 AM’. Kenma stirred, growling, and rubbing his eyelids. The pajamas —made up of an old hoodie and black sweatpants—stuck to his damp body with sweat. The cold bit his skin on his feet and face, a cruel reminder that he must turn on the heater before going to sleep.

That tune continued to echo, accompanied by the classic ‘ _bzz bzz’_ that his phone made when he had an incoming call. He knew that tone well since he had put it on someone especially just to annoy him. A storm made person, who turned upside down what he understood as life, creating a whirlwind of feelings that he both hated and appreciated. He picked up the phone between groans, pressing ‘answer’ to the call without needing to read the contact's name.

"What do you want?"

His voice came out hoarse, raspy from interrupted sleep. He could barely keep his eyelids open, being rather narrow slits. The consequences of food poisoning were hitting him pretty hard, reminding him that the little to no food that he ate was not healthy.

There was no answer from the other end of the line, beyond heavy breathing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, chasing away the remnants of drowsiness, making him blink in the dark and sharpen his ear. There was a gasp, the same as anyone would do after running a marathon but combined with the tremors of tears. An icy current ran down his spine as he sat on the mattress, but it had little or nothing to do with the winter. His heart contracted painfully, as his head became a swarm of thoughts and emotions. It took a few seconds for him to speak again, it was like being about to jump into the void.

"... Kuro?" He asked, feeling himself choking on the name. His blood had cooled, and the feeling of vertigo was desperate. "Are you there? _What's wrong?_ "

"K-Kenma." A sob, forcibly suppressed. More gasps, like he was running out of breath. "Can you... _Can you come to pick me up?_ "

"Pick you up?" He repeated, not believing what he was hearing. He squeezed the phone, making it creak. The shadows in his one-room apartment became lighter, taking the forms of furniture and various objects. "Where are you?"

"I-I..." He heard him swallow, followed by a trembling ‘ _uh’_. "... I don't know, I don't know where I am."

"Can you send me your location?" Silence, the sound of clothes rubbing, before hearing an affirmative ‘ _uh-huh’_. The cold increased. "Don't move, I'll come for you now, okay?"

"Y-yes."

"Do you want me to keep talking to you while I go?" There was a silence, where not even the alpha's breath was heard. He seemed to hesitate, which only increased the tension. "Kuro?"

"No, no! Just... come, _please_."

Kenma felt a pang in his chest at that last plea, nodding and telling Kuroo that he would be with him as quickly as possible, before cutting the call. He kicked off the sheets, leaping down from the bed and shooting toward the front door. He barely bothered to pick up the keys and jacket, thinking of the latter more for the alpha. His muscles screamed at fatigue, and his stomach was spinning, but his head was going so fast that he didn't even have time to notice it. He put on his shoes, running through the corridors like a bat out of hell.

Like never before, he went down the stairs, going down the three floors that separated him from the exit at a speed that he himself did not think was possible. He miraculously didn't slip and break his head against the stairs. A freezing blizzard greeted him as he left the building where he lived, burning his nose and throat. His eyes burned, but that didn't stop him from running. He almost slipped and fell on the steps of the entrance, but he managed to lean on one of the stone railings, scratching his palms. He clenched his teeth, there was no time to worry about it.

He ran to his car, feeling the shortness of breath press against his chest. He got in as best he could, managing to get the key into the ignition after two tries and a couple of curses. Just then, his cell phone vibrated. He unlocked it without much thought, Kuroo had sent him the address, so he proceeded to open _Google Maps_ and turned on the voice directions. After this, he turned the key in the ignition and started the engine.

The streets were largely empty, so he had no trouble stepping on the gas. He was panting, feeling a pressure on the back of the skull. One, two red lights passed, and the speed kept increasing. His thoughts were an angry swarm, buzzing until they deafened him, while the robotic voice of the application told him which directions to take. He skidded around the curves, feeling like his stomach would drop out of his mouth at any moment.

Different scenarios passed before his eyes, each one worse than the last. What if Kuroo had been attacked? Clashes between alphas were everyday fare, and it was not uncommon for them to become violent to the point of using things other than fists. What would he do if he was injured? Right now, Kuroo could be bleeding to death in some dark alley, while Kenma drove at the speed of a turtle. He shifted the gearbox lever, stomping on the gas, sinking into the leather seat. If the alpha died, it _would be_ his fault.

He didn't drive for more than 20 minutes, feeling his soul escape from his body when he reached the place and braked, causing the wheels of the car to screech and his body to go forward. Miraculously, he didn't stamp his mouth on the wheel, but he didn't even take a moment to breathe.

It was on a dimly lit street, where the suburbs for alphas and betas adjoined. There were occasional lanterns with a yellowish light, but it was still hard to make out the shadows. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the place, but didn't see the alpha; there were only trash bags. His chest was again strangled with anxiety, leading him to turn on the car's high beams, scaring away some rats he saw getting into a sewer. He checked again and saw it: hidden in the mouth of an alley, that characteristic hair that used to swarm both in his fantasies and nightmares appeared.

Kozume gasped, hitting the horn with his open hand, causing the figure to flinch and peek out, coming into view. Tetsurō was wearing something that looked like pajamas, which was quite out of place with his shoes — they were the ones he used to wear in the office. His hair was tousled, much more than normal, but he didn't seem to be hurt or anything. His knees were a little dirty, as if he had tripped, but beyond that, there was nothing special. The beta felt the pressure drop suddenly, sending waves of calm down his limbs. His muscles relaxed, and a dull whistle appeared in his ears. _It was fine, he was fine._

He turned off the high beams, honking his horn again, calling out to his partner. Kuroo started to move immediately, so he unlocked the doors. He got in without saying a word, snuggling into the passenger seat. He kept his gaze on his knees, which shook slightly as did his lower jaw. He was breathing raggedly, panting.

The weight on the beta’s stomach increased, making him swallow hard.

"We'll go to my apartment," Kenma exclaimed, turning on the heat. He turned the knob all the way, causing a blast of hot air to come out of the vehicle's ventilation. He settled into the seat; the engine was still running, he just needed to start the car. "Are you okay?" 

He looked askance at Kuroo, waiting for an answer. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded, barely shaking his head, but this was enough for the beta. He put his foot on the gas, this time starting more carefully.

The return trip lasted half an hour, during which his attention was more on the alpha than on the road. He seemed to be suffering from some degree of hypothermia, causing him to shake and gasp. His clothes were not exactly the right ones to go out at that time of night, and even less so at the end of winter, what was he doing on the street then? Judging by his shoes, he may have rushed out of his house, not looking too closely at the footwear. It made sense, himself used to do that in his old job when he fell asleep. But what had led to that? Apparently, he only had his phone on him, and perhaps the keys, since he had gone quite far from home.

_Who would go out like this in the middle of the night?_

Upon reaching his destination, Kenma was the first to get off, rushing to open the door for him instead. Kuroo was still in a catatonic state, with a lost look and an empty expression on his face, perhaps thinking who knows what. He took him by his right hand, noting that his knuckles were covered with cuts. He didn't ask anything, releasing it immediately and grabbing him by the sleeve of his pajama-clothes, thus taking him inside the building. He opted for the stairs, even though the route was slower. He had the slight feeling that it was a bad idea to lock Kuroo in a confined space, even more so in the strange state he was in. If he had another attack —if it was that and not something else— it would be difficult to calm him down again.

If he did not attack him, of course; with the alphas, you _never_ know.

"Come and sit." Upon arriving at the apartment, Kenma was the first to enter, guiding Kuroo through the unique environment to his bed. He waited for him to obey him, before speaking again. “I'll bring you tea and something for your hands, wait for me here.”

Without looking at him, the other nodded, eyes fixed on the carpeted floor. Kenma waited a few seconds, checking that he would listen to him, before going to the kitchen. There he filled his kettle, leaving it to work while he went to the bathroom for the first aid kit. Based on how little he had seen from the other's hand, those cuts seemed like the ones made with glass, so he probably had pieces embedded in the wounds. A small corner of his mind shuffled the possibilities, each one more chilling than the last, but he ended up crushing those ideas. This was no time to overthink.

Hearing the water boil, he returned to the kitchen, with the small first aid kit in his hand. He took the first clean cup he found, then opened the cabinet where he kept the tea. Akaashi had a habit of giving him boxes and boxes of different types of tea, the vast majority with relaxing properties that helped to sleep. He really didn't like that kind of drink, but as long as he could see his friend calmer, it was fine.

It was a rather curious way of worrying about him, which is why he didn't reject those gifts.

He ended up opting for a valerian, so he took a bag and put it in the cup, then took the kettle and filled it with hot water. While doing all this, Kenma was hearing the noises in the apartment, more than anything to notice if Kuroo moved or not. Outside of the possibility that he might have a crisis, Kenma was more concerned with the idea of him collapsing due to his poor condition. From the breathlessness he had heard on the call, he could assume the alpha was running, or at least he was excessively physically active. This plus light clothing could not bring anything good, and the possibility of having to drag him to the car to go to the hospital was not tempting at all.

Having the infusion ready, he returned to the bed, where Kuroo was waiting for him as he had indicated. He set the cup down on the nightstand, gently brushing the other’s shoulder to get his attention. He seemed startled for a few seconds, lifting his eyes from the floor, but instantly relaxed. His pupils were dilated.

“Can I see your hand?” Kenma asked, in a soft voice. Kuroo was looking at him without really doing it, having those beautiful amber eyes without feeling. This only made the thorn sink deeper into his heart. “I won't hurt you, I promise.”

“U-Uh.”

It took him a few moments to respond with a shake of his head as if he was having trouble assimilating the words. This worried Kozume, but he preferred to spare himself his questions and tend to the wounds of the other. He lit the lamp on his desk so he could see better what he was doing. He knelt down in front of Kuroo, on the carpet, asking for his hand with a gesture of his own. He handed it over to him, looking at him with wide eyes.

Most of the cuts were superficial, with one or the other deeper in the back. The blood was dry, but the color of the scabs showed that the wounds were recent; they wouldn't have more than two hours, maybe three at most. He took some tweezers from the first aid kit and, narrowing his eyes, looked for the pieces of glass that might be embedded. Luckily for both of them, he couldn't find more than a couple, but he still bothered to check several times. Then he took a bottle of medicinal alcohol and a few pieces of gauze.

"I'm going to clean the wound, maybe it will burn a little," the beta announced, raising his golden eyes and fixing them on the others. His pupils had contracted slightly with the change in light, revealing more of the amber. He was still lost, though he could tell he was waking up, "okay?"

"... Uhm, yes," he replied, his voice raspy.

This response made Kenma's heart skip a beat, but he forced himself to calm down and continue his task. He cleaned the cuts as fast as he could, trying to ignore the groans Kuroo was muttering. He didn't like the idea of causing him pain, all the more considering his condition. His thoughts went back and forth, colliding with each other, making his head a mess and concentrating on one thing a torture. Still, he did, worrying to clean every wound.

The bandage part was easier, and considering the alpha had responded better, he only showed him the gauze roll before covering the cuts. He made sure he had some mobility in his hand, although he couldn't do too much. Most of the damage was in the knuckle area, so the bandage itself would be bothersome.

Once he finished the healings, he closed the first aid kit and took it back to where it belonged, then returned to get the cup of tea and handed it to Tetsurō. He murmured a soft ‘thank you’ in response, leaning down to blow the hot surface of the liquid. He seemed more willing to communicate, so Kozume ventured to speak again.

"I'm going to turn on the heater," he exclaimed, standing opposite. He nodded immediately. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine." Lie, but this was not the time to get it out in his face.

"I can give you a painkiller," Kenma insisted, in a soft tone. He didn't want him to feel pressured, but concern overflowed from every one of his pores. “My... My _psychiatrist_ prescribed some very good ones for me, I have no problem giving you one.”

That last one was difficult, it wasn't something he said all the time. Only Akaashi knew about his psychiatrist appointments out of anxiety, more than anything because he had accompanied him a couple of times. It wasn't something he was proud of, but in the context where that kind of thing was found, it didn't matter. First there was Kuroo.

"I'm fine, really," he replied, trying to sketch one of his typical sly smiles. It didn't work out, being rather a languid and crooked grimace rather than a happy one. The thorn sank again, this time sending painful shivers down his spine. “I just need to... get warm.”

Kenma nodded, saying nothing. He waited a few seconds in case he wanted to add something else, but the alpha turned his attention to drinking the tea. Kenma went in search of the gas heater, which was stored in the small storage room in the kitchen. Despite the fact that the device had wheels, it took a titanic effort to move it, consequences of the lack of food due to poisoning and excessive effort. He felt that he would end up fainting at any moment, but that didn't stop him. With all his willpower devoted to the task, he moved the heater to where Kuroo was, using a kitchen lighter that he kept in the kitchen to light it. The heat did not take long to flood the small apartment, making the stay much more comforting.

He sighed, running his hands through his straight hair. Fatigue slowly blurred his vision, while his knees began to become more of a gelatinous mass than anything else. He wanted to sleep, even for a couple of hours, but the sight of the alpha still sitting on the edge of the bed prevented him. Kozume waited for him to finish his tea, watching his every move. Little by little, he came back to life, although he retained a certain tint that made his hair stand on end.

"You can stay until tomorrow, I have no problem with that," Kenma said, after Kuroo put the cup down on the nightstand. They looked at each other, saying nothing, so he decided to continue. “I can take the couch.”

“Are you sure? I don't want to be a nuisance.”

"You're not," he replied succinctly. The softness in his own words surprised him, he was used to other kinds of responses, even more so when it came to that silly alpha.

Kuroo said nothing, lowering his gaze to the ground. Seeing no reaction, Kozume took the first step, muttering a ‘come on, lie down’ as he grabbed the other by the arm, helping him to his feet. He opened the sheets and blankets on the bed, waiting for him to lie down before tucking him in. At all times he felt those amber eyes on him, drilling into him, asking questions he couldn't answer. Kenma avoided them as much as he could, he didn't feel able to say anything else.

_Everything will be fine._

The words danced on the tip of his tongue, tempted to escape as they held on tight. He wished he could just say that phrase, but the weight of his stomach was greater. He really didn't know shit about Kuroo's situation, about what happened before the call or on the way to the alley, about the reason of the cuts in his hand. It was absurd to even think that ensuring something like that would do, he would hate to be told that if he experienced the same. Empty words, designed as the typical optimistic phrase of consolation that people used to escape from uncomfortable moments. The more he repeated it inside his head, the less meaning it had, becoming a mere noise more like static than anything else.

Kenma grimaced, sometimes he would like to be better with words.

"I'll be on the couch, don't hesitate to call me if you need anything," Kenma mused.

Amber eyes were still fixed on him, opaque, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't even know. Not seeing any change in his expression or even some talking intentions, he turned to go to what would be his bed for the night. His legs were heavy, and each step felt like hell. Running had made him feel worse than he would have imagined, was he in such a bad physical condition?

The beta failed to advance a meter when he felt a soft brush against his clothing, followed by a muffled call.

“Kenma… !”

He turned, with a ‘what's wrong?’ written in his gaze. Kuroo had stretched out one of his long arms, perhaps trying to grab him by the clothes to slow him down, barely managing to touch his hoodie with his fingertips. They looked at each other, saying nothing, absorbed in the strange atmosphere in which they had been breathing since they entered the apartment. The amber eyes trembled, as the usual relaxed-looking features snapped and deformed. A couple of tears fell, sliding down the alpha's cheeks, reaching his chin and fading deep into his neck.

When the first sob escaped him, Kenma had already got into bed with him, hugging him.

"Come on..." he encouraged, in a whisper. He had the alpha’s head against his chest, while his shoulders shook with each wail. He stroked the other's hair carefully, feeling the tears wet his hoodie. “I’m here, Kuro.”

Kenma wrapped his thin arms around Kuroo as best he could, giving him a gentle squeeze. The thorn dug deeper and deeper into his heart, closing his throat and making his eyes burn. Still, he couldn't say anything else, feeling himself falling apart as Kuroo trembled against his body. He stroked his hair again, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, feeling him choking.

It would be a long night.

* * *

Crunches and grunts, the smell of blood dancing on his nose.

The scene is diffuse and his movements uncertain, but there is something that is quite clear: the pain in his left arm. He knows he’s covering his face with it, right? He can’t remember, the buzz inside his head won't let him think. He forces his eyes to focus, as his chest begins to be crushed to suffocation. First, he sees a featureless face, then a nose and lips, some hair, teeth, and blood. He gasps, he's choking, too much weight on his ribs, but he doesn't stop staring at the strange face.

Nose, lips, eyebrows, cheekbones. Things start to take shape, it feels like acid is being poured into his cornea. Dark skin, black bangs, enviable teeth. A vague sensation settles in his stomach, burning, slowly setting fire to the surroundings, until it makes him feel that his belly will burst. Two amber eyes, streaked with golden and brown lines, creating an integral depth, but which were swallowed up by a dilated pupil.

He held his breath. _It was Kuroo who was biting his forearm._

More creaking and grunting. The smell of blood chokes him, as his bones give way under the alpha's jaws, breaking the only barrier that separates them. One last glimpse of his teeth, before he felt them sink into his throat. Darkness engulfs him.

Kenma woke up suddenly, panting and with tears in his eyes.

His throat burned, as he felt his chest constrict every time he tried to take a deep breath, drowning him in his own misery. It took him a few seconds to react, time where he felt the world coming down on him before he could connect to the stage around him. He was still in his apartment, sitting on the bed; nothing had changed, other than the strange weight at his side, wrapping his pelvis with a hug.

Kozume blinked, moving his gaze from nowhere to his side, where he saw a bush of black hair trying to merge with him. The memories of the night before came to him like a punch, causing him to react and breathe again. It was fine, Kuroo was fine too, they had spent the night together and that was great, _nothing his chaotic head couldn't process_. He gave a shaky breath, realizing that he felt some pain in his right arm, so he turned his gaze to it. Without realizing it, he had grasped his right forearm with his left hand, digging his fingers into the fabric so hard that his knuckles had gone white. How long had he been like this? The beta felt stupid, loosening his grip with a crooked grin, before pulling the sleeve of his hoodie up to his elbow.

His pale, thin arm with almost transparent skin was exposed, which would have been beautiful if it were not for the horrible scar that decorated it. Almost in the center of the forearm, two white ‘half moons’ touched each other, creating a twisted and protruding figure, which now seemed to stand out much more as his skin was reddened from the grip. Memories filled the back of his head, so he decided to roll back his sleeve before it was too late.

Some things took longer to heal than he could tolerate.

A growl at his side reminded him that he was not alone and that his sudden awakening must have been annoying. He scratched his cheek, looking somewhat lazily at Kuroo's figure. He had stayed awake the rest of the night, consoling him, until he ended up falling asleep before the exhaustion. Even though he couldn't stop him from crying, his clumsy caresses were enough to prevent a possible panic attack, which was a good thing. Sure, considering the physical disadvantage in which a beta as skinny as him was in, the worst possible scenario would've been one where Kuroo lost control, forcing his way to scape.

A slight stitch in his temples makes him frown. There had to be consequences, of course; with the little luck he had, it was the least of it.

He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It indicated that it was 07.30 AM, which made him grumble. It was too early for anyone with even a bit of humanity, especially considering that he had fallen asleep after six. He felt beaten, as if a group of elephants had tap-danced on him, then used him as a mop to clean the dance floor. He didn't even know how he stood up straight, even keeping his eyes open was a miracle. His mind began to wander, away from his body and muscle pain, what would it be like to lie down again, curling up against the alpha's body and letting his body heat lull him to sleep?

He thought about it, hard, even more so considering how comforting Kuroo's arms were, which surrounded his belly, but he couldn't do it. He hadn't eaten for too many hours —which he didn't mind— and the idiot next to him sure didn't eat too —that worried him a little more— so the most reasonable thing would be to stand up and prepare breakfast. Furthermore, given the events that occurred and the possibility that the alpha would continue to be affected, he had to call the office and alert Iwaizumi of the situation, or at least make up some credible lie. He rubbed his face, weighing his options, sleeping was much more tempting, and who really could _blame him_ for something so human?

A murmur, followed by a gentle spasm in the arms around him. Tetsurō turned his head, revealing a puffy-eyed face, with reddish traces where the tears had passed. The thorn reappeared, digging into the bowels of Kenma's heart, causing him to release a curse as he slipped out of the other’s grasp and stood up.

With his hair in a ponytail and the same clothes from the night before, the beta left his apartment, taking care not to make too much noise. If he wanted to prepare breakfast, he would need raw materials to cook, something that was not common in his home for obvious reasons. Not that he was bad at culinary arts — Akaashi used to say he was great at it — but the idea of spending hours in the kitchen creating something that would be useful for a couple of days, and then having to repeat the process ...

Food delivery was better _by far_.

Considering that his body was shattered and he could barely take two steps without fainting, he opted to go to a nearby grocery store, which was attended by a beta with curly brown hair. Before, there used to be a guy — presumably her brother, given his physical similarities — who looked like a criminal, who always blurted out ‘how can you be a police officer when you're so tiny? Haven't you thought about trying hard and getting fit?’ that led to discussions. Kozume really didn't hate him for it, not that it was a lie what he said, but sometimes the guy could be very annoying. At some point they had started to get along better, specifically the day Kozume appeared with blond-dyed hair.

He preferred not to wonder too much about the reason for that change, it ultimately benefited him.

He bought fish, vegetables, and a bag of rice. From what he remembered, he still had the latter in the pantry, but he wasn't going to risk the possibility that it wasn't. The cold of the city at that hour was anything but pleasant, and despite wearing his thickest jacket, a hat and a scarf that only showed his eyes, he was freezing. Each move was an ordeal, but he still quickened his pace to return quickly to the apartment.

Opening the door, he found that Kuroo was still in the same position where he left him, sleeping on his belly and occupying the whole fucking bed. He sighed, hanging up his keys and undressing until he was again in a hoodie and sweatpants, then carried the groceries to the kitchen. The apartment was still at a comfortable temperature, all thanks to his heater — it had been turned off as soon as the alpha fell asleep, which was not so long ago — one of his best investments so far.

In the kitchen, he put water in his rice cooker before filling it, programming it with a couple of 'clicks'. Then, he proceeded to wash the vegetables, which he would put on a table and cut into small pieces. Having this ready, he put everything in a pot, which he filled with water and added the necessary condiments; that would be some kind of vegetable soup. Then it was the turn of the fish, which was also washed and prepared for cooking, which would be in a pan. Since he had bought fillet fish, he didn't have to go to the trouble of removing the bones, but he still checked the pieces of meat a couple of times before cooking them.

He spent half an hour working non-stop, sweating like a pig in the heat of the kitchen, he even had a nice traditional breakfast. He put two servings — one for the alpha and one for him — on a wooden tray, which had legs that made it a bedside table. With everything ready, he left the kitchen and headed towards Kuroo, who was still sleeping as if nothing had happened. He had moved a little, burying his face in one of the many pillows on the bed. Kenma set the tray down, approaching the other and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Kuro..." he called, shaking him gently. He grimaced, muttering something under his breath. “Kuro,” he insisted, with a little more force, but did nothing. He frowned, how could that broom head have such a heavy sleep? “Kuro!”

“Ah, it wasn´t me!” Kuroo woke up suddenly, sitting up so fast he almost gave him a head butt. The alpha looked confused in all directions, before stopping at the other. “Kenma...?”

"No, the Easter Bunny," he spat, rolling his eyes. He bent down, picking up the tray of food on the floor. He opened the legs that it had, so as to put it on the legs of Kuroo who still did not seem to understand what was happening. “And here are your chocolate eggs.”

"Ah, uhm... Thank you," he murmured, scratching the back of his neck nervously. There was a moment of silence, where the alpha was only devoted to contemplating breakfast. He looked up, fixing his gaze on Kozume. “So... you and me...?”

"You called me around 3 AM, and I went to pick you up," he replied, as he went in search of a stool. Since the alpha took up the entire bed and was not going to have as much body contact again, the only option he had was to sit to one side. He picked up a plastic one that he kept in the closet, for some reason that didn't come to mind at the time. “Since you didn't seem to be feeling well, I let you stay.”

“Oh.”

“What? Were you thinking of something else?” He asked, innocently, making the alpha hesitate. He knew what he was referring to earlier, he saw it dance in the amber of his eyes. He narrowed his eyelids, putting on his best disgusted face. “ _Pervert_.”

“I-I wasn't thinking about that!” Tetsurō's face turned into a huge tomato, one of those shown in the commercials. Kozume wanted to laugh, but he stayed in his role, wrinkling his face further and feigning horror. “I'm not that kind of person!”

"So you don't want to sleep with me?"

"Yes, I-I mean, no!" Seeing Kuroo, normally proud and self-assured, so affected by the very idea of having sex, it was hilarious. If Kenma could, he would have recorded him. “S-Sleep with someone can refer to many things, not just _that!_ ”

"Yeah, but no one gets nervous about the other meanings."

“No but—!”

“Pervert.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, _you are_.”

They were arguing like that for a while until Kenma muttered a ‘ _eat already, I didn't kill myself in the kitchen just for it to get cold’_ , cutting the discussion short. Kuroo just looked at him with narrowed eyes — although it was hard to tell, his eyelids were still very swollen — before muttering something under his breath and taking the chopsticks from the tray, extending a pair to the beta next to his portion.

They both ate in silence, listening only to the natural sounds they made when eating. Kenma kept his attention on the other, waiting for him to say something. He had so many questions in his head; how had he cut his knuckles with glass? Had he broken a mirror or a window? What was the reason behind his stark crying? Had something happened to him during the course where he wasn't in the office? His head hummed from here to there, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't as if he was unfamiliar with panic attacks and so he had experienced them firsthand more than once and understood how difficult it was to talk about, but he couldn't help but feel impatient.

Seeing the alpha rummage through his food, taking a bite every long time, was fucking on his nerves. The thorn in his heart returned, filling his head with possibilities, thousands of them, each one darker than the other. He wanted and didn't want to know the story behind everything, he longed for the idea of being useful and helping, but at the same time he feared that there was nothing he could do. It was maddening to see that opaque amber gaze, clouded by something that seemed too painful, or was it he who was exaggerating things? Perhaps he was overthinking it, seeing misfortunes where there were none. Was it his anxiety betraying him again, had he even taken his pills that morning?

"Oi, Kenma." Kuroo's hoarse voice distracted him, enough to get him out of that whirlwind. He had been biting the inside of his cheek, without realizing it. The metallic taste of blood danced on his tongue. “Since when do you cook?”

"Ah, my mother taught me," he answered mechanically. The alpha had turned his face in his direction, and seemed much calmer. Aside from the fact that he looked like a toad from how swollen his face was, of course. “According to her, cooking is the first thing an adult should know.”

"Even though I'm not a food _guru_ , I can tell you that this is delicious," he exclaimed, pointing to the breakfast. Kozume nodded, saying nothing. Rice and vegetables were the least important at the time. “Remind me to congratulate your mom when I meet her.”

“Okay.”

Silence. In another context, perhaps they would have joked about the idea that Kuroo wanted to meet his mother, but the thorn in his heart wouldn't let him. It was getting deeper and deeper, pushing its way through his muscles and tendons, making breathing a painful chore. The buzz returned along with the dark thoughts, and Kenma could feel the rice turning to dirt in his mouth. He tried to hide it, forcing himself not to grimace or lower his chopsticks abruptly, but still the alpha caught on. He knew when Kuroo sighed and spoke in a much more serious tone than usual.

"Listen, Kenma," said Kuroo, setting the chopsticks on the tray. “Last night was screwed up, and I'm really sorry if I ended up being a bother and making you worry more than you should.”

"Don't apologize, I—”

"I know it's like that, I can see it in your eyes," he cut off, which made the beta's mouth snap shut. “I also know that you want an explanation of what happened, or at least that I tell you a little.” He listened carefully, saying nothing. The alpha fiddled with his hands, preferring to look anywhere other than the other’s eyes. “And it's not that I don't want to tell you, I would love to be able to, but ... _I can't._ ”

“Huh?” That puzzled him, but he didn't have time to process it before Tetsurō followed.

"It's complicated, y'know?” He began to explain, more and more nervous. He spoke fast, making the words collide with each other and making him look like he was about to run out of air. A stab pierced his chest. “Whenever these things happen to me I say ‘hey, what the hell?’, But I can never answer, and I end up realizing that _I don't remember anything at all, not even the reason why I started feeling bad at first_.” Increasingly hysterical, the alpha had begun to sweat as his hands trembled. “And it's okay if you're angry or hate me, _who wouldn't?_ It's hard to trust someone who doesn't remember what they're doing, or someone who lies to give things an explanation, _right?_ ”

"... Kuro.”

"It is not the first time this has happened, and you have every right not to want to relate to me, it is—"

“Kuro," he cut him off dryly.

Kuroo looked up, puzzled, and with tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes. The thorn pierced again, but this time Kenma did something about it. He got up from the stool, setting aside the half-eaten bowl of rice, then approached the bed. He took the tray of food, moving it to the side in such a way as not to disturb, to finally sit on the bed. Kuroo watched his every move silently, looking like some sort of cornered animal, or at least it seemed that way. Scared and helpless, two things that didn't go with an alpha, but were still there.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

"First of all, _I don't hate you_ ," he clarified, giving Kuroo a meaningful look. Sitting side by side, the distance between their bodies was small, to the point where they could feel each other's body heat. “It bothers me when you lie, but it's just that. It would be ridiculous to hate you for something like that, when maybe I lie a _thousand times more_ myself” he continued, smiling with a certain sadness. He looked at his own hands, which were in his lap. He took another puff of air, releasing it slowly. “I know how difficult some things can be, especially when people around you don't understand them. You feel... guilty, even if you can't control it.”

He had begun to fiddle with his fingers nervously, listening to the buzz inside his head. Hundreds of memories flashed past his eyes, causing him a shiver down his spine. Panic attacks at school and at work, moments where his anxiety took control, situations where he exposed his body to extreme conditions of stress, lack of sleep or a hunger that gnawed at his insides. Many things that he lived in his youth, a few of his adulthood.

So many times that he did not know how to explain himself, feeling that other people's eyes pierced him. So many times where the "you put yourself in this situation" filled his head, piercing his heart like daggers. So many wounds, so many tears shed for something he did not choose, that he would change without thinking twice, regardless of the price to pay. A monster that he was forced to control, despite how painful it was. And, after hundreds of stumbles, he did it, and he was much better.

He sighed, intertwining his fingers in his lap and looking up. Again, gold danced with amber.

" _Stop apologizing and saying you are the problem_ ," he quoted, his voice low. A flash crossed Kuroo's eyes, making him smile a little. “How long ago did you tell me that? Two, three days?”

"Five," he replied, matching the smile. It was a crooked grimace, much sadder and less proud than usual, but it was still that: a smile. “Using my own words against me is very low, sir don't-call-me-detective.”

"Oh, as if ‘don't call me a detective’ wasn't the same.” The alpha laughed, to which he reciprocated with a chuckle. The thorn stopped burying itself. “And, well... just that. You don't owe me or anyone else an apology, not when the problem is not something you decide yourself,” he continued, after regaining his calm. “It's not your fault, none of this is, and I understand it.” Kuroo opened his mouth, but Kenma stepped forward. “If you are going to say ‘that doesn’t mean that I’m not a nuisance’, I want to remind you that I decided to go looking for you and let you stay, it is not as if a gun was pointed at my head.”

"Surely you would have accepted that shot."

“And get out of the misery that is existence in this filthy world? _Yes please_ .” They laughed again, much more eagerly than before. The black cloud disappeared entirely, and the thorn stopped piercing his flesh. When they returned to silence, they only looked at each other for a few seconds, with enough intensity for Kozume to look away. “And, well, it wasn't _that_ terrible, either.”

“Oh? Did the great Kozume Kenma enjoy sleeping with me?” The alpha growled. _As tense as the situation was, idiots kept being so_. “I'm flattered.”

"I give you a point for being a good human heater, but I take ten down because of the stench," he replied, shrugging. “Your breath doesn't exactly smell like roses.”

“What?” He paused, holding a hand to his mouth and exhaling, sniffing. He frowned. “It's not that bad, come on.”

"That plus the smell of blood, _oof_.”

"Gremlin."

After this, they both spent the day in bed, romping between the sheets and chatting from time to time. Kuroo was in charge of calling Iwaizumi, reporting that he would be absent the rest of the day for personal reasons and that he regretted the inconvenience, an excuse that the other alpha accepted after the typical scolding of "warn in time next time."

Kenma, who was playing on his PSP, overheard the conversation, choosing not to say anything. His head was still full of questions, which even seemed to have multiplied after what was said by the alpha. He had more or less a suspicion that something was wrong, an anxiety disorder or depression, typical, but he would never have thought it was that serious. He had — in his quest to research mental health when his anxiety first started being treated — read that traumatic episodes could create mental gaps as a coping mechanism of the brain, or that you could forget certain things after a severe panic attack, but nothing like that.

_ I don't remember anything at all, not even the reason why I started feeling bad at first. _

He grimaced, _game over_ music playing in the background, but he was no longer paying attention to it. What the hell could generate such a violent reaction? Just trying to imagine it gave him chills. Kuroo was not like him, he was not exalted by trifles, not in a way that would lead to uncontrolled hysteria, where he could not even explain what was happening to him without crying.

A strange feeling settled at the bottom of his head, a shadow of bad omen.

"You just made a horrible face," Kuroo scoffed. He had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and was already coming back. He carelessly threw himself onto the bed, sitting next to Kenma and resting his chin on his shoulder. “What? Did you lose again? I thought you were good at these things.”

"Shut your mouth," he growled, shoving him away. The alpha chuckled that characteristic laugh, more like a hyena's giggle than laughter. “Don't you have anything better to do? Like, I don't know, going home?”

"I told a friend to go see how Princess is doing." That was the ridiculous name the alpha gave the kitten he got, after arguing for half an hour with the beta how naming her ‘Kenma’ was too much. “I don't have much more to do.”

"Make up something with your huge nerd head," he replied. He looked back at his game, returning to the save point, but the insistence of the amber gaze on him was too much. “ _What?_ ”

"You know, I was thinking..." Kozume grumbled, giving up and setting the console aside, turning his face away. “Don't you think our relationship got weird because of me? I mean, because of _everything_ that has happened.”

"I don't know," he replied, without much thought. The other kept his gaze on him, as if expecting something else. “It's not that I really care, either.”

“Oh, really?” The beta nodded, which made the other’s face light up with a smile. “What a relief!”

“What? Did you think I was upset?”

"No, no, rather... _uncomfortable_ ," he explained, coming closer again. This time he leaned back on his side, wrapping his huge arms around Kenma's waist. The heat emanating from the alpha's skin was stifling. “I was afraid you were doing things out of obligation and not because you wanted to.”

"Don't you think I would have kicked you by now if I did?" He croaked, making the other laugh. He was tempted to lie down to get closer to the alpha, but he did not do so in order to save what little pride he had left. So he picked up his PSP again, turning on the screen and going back to the game. “I don't know what worries you so much.”

"Well I want to get it right," Kuroo replied, sticking even closer to the beta. He buried his face in the side of his thighs, sending small goosebumps through the other’s skin. Kenma pulled his leg away, as if the contact had burned him. “I don't want to look like that kind of man, ya know.”

“And what is that for? Sounds like you really have romantic intentions.” Silence. Kenma felt the arms around his waist tighten, while Kuroo buried his nose on his thigh. His heart skipped a beat, beating like it wanted to escape his chest. "... You're fucking kidding me."

“ _Hmph!”_

"Don't answer me in that tone," he replied, feigning annoyance. He was dying inside, but his pride was greater. “I am still your superior.”

Kuroo muttered something against his leg, being a string of deafening and incomprehensible sounds. He assumed it was some bad joke — presumably about jellyfish or other nerdy shit — so he didn't care. Nor is it as if he wanted to continue the conversation, he himself was melting from the whirlwind inside him. He would have never imagined that his feelings were reciprocal, or at least that the alpha took them so seriously. It was common of his type to fool around with those things, even more considering that he, as a beta, was not exactly his "other half". Alphas were meant to be with omegas and vice versa, it was absurd to think otherwise.

But, there he was, living in a world that seemed to become increasingly surreal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this was pretty intense (ㅇㅅㅇ) 
> 
> I'm really sorry for the long waiting, college and work are trying to kill me. I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave a kudo and a comment to support this fic! ^^ 
> 
> And, here's my twitter if you wanna talk or keep abreast of new chapters and stuff [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09)


	4. Curiosity killed the cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have gotten confusing, and someone else's past will come to destroy Kenma's little emotional stability.
> 
> TW: panic attack, past sexual abuse.

Sometimes feelings were stranger than you would expect them to be.

Anyone would say that the confession had changed things, leading to something more serious. Considering that they had been in a tug-of-war for some time, where they pushed their boss-subordinate relationship in search of a limit, it was to be _expected_ that something like this could happen. At least, Kenma thought so at first, but the context in which things happened ended up twisting everything.

The bad feeling he had about the amnesia thing didn't go away, and it intensified as the alpha began to show more and more injuries on his body. The scratches on his knuckles turned into cuts and bruises, many times spreading down his arms. More than once he showed up with marks on his face, sometimes in the form of harmless scratches, and others like a black eye hidden by his bushy bangs and some makeup. The worst of all was when he arrived with a pair of broken fingers, which he justified with a story about a heavy piece of furniture and the terrible idea of trying to move it.

Kenma knew well that such injuries were obtained from fights, probably quite violent, but he tried to believe him. He tried hard, he _really_ wanted to think Kuroo was telling the truth, but deep down he knew he didn't.

_"I don't remember anything at all, not even the reason why I started feeling bad at first."_

Still, Kozume tried to keep up appearances at the office, continuing to interact as usual. The alpha knew him well enough not to press him, but you could see in his eyes that he was expecting something, an answer to his confessed feelings. And Kenma would have loved to say yes, throw himself into his arms and kiss him, thus having his happy ending, but things weren't that simple. How could he trust someone who didn't even know what he was doing? It was no longer just the fear that he would short-circuit and turn violent because he was an alpha, but something much deeper.

Something was _wrong_ , and he felt like he had only seen the tip of the iceberg.

"So how are things with Kuroo-san?" Akaashi asked, adjusting his glasses.

It was the Friday of the second week of December, and the change of season brought no good news. The deaths by the serial killer had increased, almost doubling, and the violence went from simple homicides carried out with brute force to using auxiliary objects, mostly things found around the scene: stones, pieces of brick, rusty iron, and all kinds of moderately blunt pieces of garbage. The news had gone out of their way to talk about the "Beast Blinding" —unoriginal, but accurate name — stirring up the masses and causing waves of calls regarding sightings, causing the police service system to collapse.

And, for this very reason, a meeting had been called in the Central, which Akaashi had to attend, leaving Kenma in charge. Normally this task would be entrusted to Iwaizumi, but the alpha had caught a cold with the change in temperature. The beta did not quite like the idea of being in charge, and his nerves were betraying him, but he knew well that he had no other option. After all, compared to what it would be like to have Oikawa or Kuroo in charge —Bokuto wasn't even considered for that kind of task for obvious reasons— his stress turned out to be a lesser evil. Dealing with a backlog of paperwork was much easier than a fire, or even an explosion.

“Oh, fine,” Kenma replied to Akaashi without much thought. He was sitting in his friend's office, watching him organize his things before leaving. It reminded him of a bee, flying around, buzzing and trying to do its job. “We talked again and stuff.”

"You don't sound convinced." The beta had to force himself not to wince. _Of course_ it wasn’t fine, the nightmares where the alpha tried to assassinate him or became the protagonist of his most traumatic memories had become too recurrent, to the point where he tended to avoid physical contact in real life. In addition, the lack of sleep had ended up giving him horrible dark circles and a milky color to his skin, which were things that were not so easy to hide. “You know you can tell me anything.”

"I'm serious, I'm fine, it’s just… " Silence. He couldn't say anything to Akaashi, at least not right now. He was under too much stress, _what kind of friend would go and give him more trouble?_ “W-Well, he... _confessed_ to me.”

“Are you serious?” Kenma nodded. _A half-truth was better than a lie, right?_ “And did that make you feel bad? I can request a transfer if it is bothering you.”

“No, no! It's… complicated, nothing else,” he replied hastily, feeling the omega's gaze sharpen. Those gray eyes scrutinized him silently, reading his expressions as if it were an open book. Sometimes he hated that his friend had such keen intuition, or perhaps it was that his own face was being too expressive. He was no longer certain of anything. “I mean, I like Kuroo, but I don't know if it's the right thing to do.”

"It's not like the 'right' thing exists in these kinds of situations," he murmured. With a couple of quick movements, he finished arranging the papers inside his briefcase, closing it with a sharp snap, before turning his full attention away. “We had this same conversation a while ago, when Bokuto-san asked me out. Do you remember what you told me?”

"...That Bokuto would be fine as long as you didn't say long words to him?"

" _I think you should follow your feelings_ ," he quoted, causing Kenma to let out a soft "ah." To tell the truth, he could remember little to nothing about past conversations at that time; his head was too busy mulling over the possibilities of what the hell was wrong with Kuroo, and incidentally fantasizing how he would _kill him_. “If he likes you and you like him, I don't see any problems.” Kenma nodded, lowering his golden eyes. He fidgeted with his fingers, tangling and squeezing them. “Unless there is _something else_.”

"Yes, I mean no!" His heart began to beat fast, looking cornered. Akaashi's expression did not change a bit, although the glow in his gaze took on a slight tinge of concern. Again he had screwed things up, he couldn't even do something as insignificant as not give his friends trouble. _He was pathetic_. “I-I just... I don't really know if I want to, after all, I've known him for five months and..."

"You're scared, aren't you?” Kenma hesitated, taking a few seconds to nod. _Fear_ , that cold sensation that ran down his spine when he dreamed of his throat being crushed and torn apart by those teeth that used to smile at him mockingly, the weight on his stomach when he felt his body close, sometimes just a slight touch to trigger his adrenaline. Should he call it like that, or was it _something else?_ “Well, I don't blame you, we're on the same page after all.”

"It's different. You have more valid reasons to fear alphas," he murmured, twisting his mouth. Memories of the bite on his arm surfaced, making the scar burn. _That time they were lucky to get out alive._ “I'm a beta, most of the time they pass me off like shit.”

"That doesn't negate anything," said his friend, softening his expression. Since Kenma was sitting in his chair, Akaashi had to kneel so that his eyes were at the same level. He took a strand of lanky hair that was almost black from growing roots, placing it behind the other's ear. The beta, for his part, closed his eyes, enjoying the warm touch. “I would love to be able to erase the things that have happened, but _I can't._ ” A sad smile appeared on Akaashi’s face. “Sorry.”

“D-Don't apologize! None of that was your fault,” Kenma exclaimed hastily. It was obvious what he meant, and wasn't going to let Akaashi blame himself. “You did not decide to be born like that, the fact that others try to abuse you is... horrible, but it _is not_ your fault.”

"I could have been more careful, you were at risk for my irresponsibility," Akaashi continued, his voice serious. He sighed, getting back to his feet and running a hand through his hair. His gray eyes were darkened for a few seconds, but it was a matter of a blink before it was gone. “I guess we will never agree on that.”

"Sorry to give you more trouble."

"To be honest, I'm more worried about not knowing what's wrong with you." He smiled. Kenma felt a pang in his chest, _how could he be such a bad friend to lie to Akaashi?_ “I'll be back in the afternoon, so don't worry about the reports.”

“Are you sure? You know I can do them for you.”

"I'd rather you go get something for breakfast and rest." Kenma grunted in response, causing Akaashi to let out one of his sing-song laughs. “Trust me, I don't want you to pass out or something.”

"Okay," Kenma relented. If it were a different time, he might have argued that he didn't need so much food and sleep to function well, but he had done enough to draw painful memories and make the omega feel guilty. A silence formed between them, which he broke with the first question that came to his mind. “By the way, how are you doing with Bokuto?”

“Pretty good.”

“Is it official now, or...?”

"Not really," he replied, shrugging. Akaashi's expression softened, losing for a moment that tension that had sharpened his features for weeks. His lips curved upwards, as if he had remembered something. It took him a few seconds to react, shaking his head, a soft blush bathing his cheeks. “I-It's not that important either, it's not like our relationship is going to get worse if it isn’t.”

"Maybe he's waiting for the right time."

“Do you think so?”

"From the little I've seen and heard from Kuro, it's likely," Kenma replied, shrugging. The other's gaze was on him, as if expecting something more. “I think so, at least, but you know him better, don't you?”

"Uh, yeah, but…”

"Hm?"

"... It’s nothing, maybe I'm just overthinking it," Akaashi muttered, closing his eyes. He made a move to rub his face, stopping as he found his glasses and muttering something, before setting them back in place. Again, stress covered his features. “I still can’t believe that someone like him notices me.”

"Surely he must think the same way about you," said the beta, with a sly tone. " _Oh, 'Kashi is so smart, how can he love a dumb guy like me?_ " He exclaimed, imitating Bokuto's voice and posture.

"Hey, he doesn't talk like that," Akaashi replied, in a tone that wanted to sound offended. But he was holding back his laughter, bringing a hand up to his mouth to hide the incipient smile. “He's kind of slow, but not dumb.”

"You say that because you like him."

“Of course not! He is very kind and sincere, and he cares about others. It may take him a while to understand certain things, but he tries to make up for it with effort.” As he spoke, the omega's face gradually brightened, showing a brilliance as blinding as looking directly at the sun. _Too obvious_ , Kenma thought, giggling. “What?”

"I'm going to end up with diabetes if you keep talking."

"Uhm, did I talk too much?"

"Nah. I'm happy for you.”

The conversation ended with a quick review of how to divert calls to reception and what to do in the event that the air conditioner crashed — a couple of knocks fixed it — followed by a quick goodbye before Akaashi left. Hearing the door close with a soft 'click', silence surrounded Kenma, a heavy mist clinging to his skin. The exhaustion came back like a wave, tugging at his eyelids as he leaned back on the desk. He rested his head on his arms, letting his hair fall freely over his face.

 _Maybe he did need to rest a little_.

* * *

Kenma woke up half an hour later, his body sweating and a sharp shortness of breath.

Once again, his dreams had been invaded by surreal nightmares, where the face of that rooster-head alpha appeared more than he would like. Sometimes it was just a silhouette in the shadows, watching him with those amber eyes so similar to those of a cat, and others he was a monster that lunged at him, tearing his jugular apart and drinking from his blood. Either way, he hadn't rested at all. In fact, he would say that he was a lot more wrecked than before his nap.

He sighed, stretching and getting in return a sting at his spine that took a couple of curses out of him. _What had he done to deserve that?_

Considering that the omega was still out —it was only 11:30— Kenma took the PSP out of his pocket and opened _MonHun_ to kill time. He had recently created a new game, so he had a lot to explore and build, at least enough to drive away those thoughts that silence brought with it. He knew himself well enough to know that it was a bad idea to overanalyze things, especially after coming out of a nightmare. Most of the time he lost his mind it was because of that, more than those little problems of the day to day.

_Who the fuck had time to worry about stupid things with Kuroo around?_

After losing over and over for half an hour, Kozume ended up putting the console aside on the table, clicking his tongue. His thoughts were a mess, mistaking facts for fantasies and jumping to hasty conclusions. What if it wasn't his paranoia? _What if Kuroo was really someone who turned out to be dangerous?_ The selective amnesia might have been forgivable had it not been followed by wounds that clearly seemed to be the result of fighting. It was normal for alphas to fight each other, he had witnessed some many times where they reached the point of trying to kill each other, but it was not certain that this was the case. After all, Kuroo didn't remember anything, _who could assure him that he didn't go out "hunting" and abusing other people?_

Kenma shook his head, trying to chase the thoughts away, only to get a pang in his temples. He brought his hand up to his hair, scratching compulsively, feeling his fingernails dig into his scalp. And why should he even believe the amnesia? It wasn't a very common consequence, and even less so when it was selective. He had read about how people often suffered memory slips during traumatic episodes on a physical level —like major head impacts— or psychological, and that it had to be diagnosed by a professional.

"A professional..." he murmured aloud.

Around him, the office seemed to light up, while the swarm of his thoughts was deafened, leaving only one to stand out from the rest. How had it not come to him before? Kenma didn’t have to pay attention to what the alpha said was happening to him, it was enough to go and review his resume within the police. As far as he understood —and what he had once discussed with Akaashi— not just anyone could get into the police force, least of all the homicide department. It was dangerous to expose mentally weak people to that field, even more so in those cases where the individual had a tendency to certain mental illnesses by inheritance.

There was the story of a guy who started as a teacher and then went on to work with the police to investigate homicides —he was said to have an uncanny knack for empathy and projection— and ended up being just another murderer. Even though it was a kind of legend told to scare newbies, that sort of thing could happen. There have been people who have ended up with chronic anxiety, depression or post-traumatic stress, so strict tests were carried out when accepting new recruits; it was not crazy to think that it would be the same for Kuroo's case. A history of violence and memory loss —or mythomania— was not something that was easy to hide, and even less from the high caliber professionals they had at the institution.

Kenma just had to check and he would know the truth.

With this idea in mind, Kenma opened the laptop that was on the desk —Akaashi had left it for weight reasons— pressing the power button with some impatience. As far as he remembered, there was no mention of Kuroo on the folio he read on the first day —after electrocuting the two alphas and nearly having a panic attack— so it might be something more secret. Luckily for him, the police had files on all of their members that included more specific information regarding their medical and life history, which Akaashi had access to as a boss.

It was not exactly "legal" that he was getting there without proper authorization, and even less to check profiles of colleagues, but the cause was justified.

That's how he entered the site, after entering Akaashi's ID and trying the only two passwords he used —his birthday reversed or the same plus his favorite number, for more security—, accessing at the second attempt. He typed the name "Kuroo Tetsurō" into the search bar and, in a matter of seconds, the folder containing all the data and files regarding the alpha appeared before him. He moved the cursor until it was over the icon, lifting his index finger to make the long-awaited 'click', but doubt assailed him.

 _Wasn't this betrayal?_ He was about to scrutinize Kuroo’s life, someone who had trusted him enough to tell him intimate things and seek him out during his most vulnerable moments. Someone who had feelings for him that went beyond simple friendship, who cared to respect his space and would never try to invade him, just as he was about to do.

 _It's not like it's a crime,_ he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. His finger trembled, undecided whether to descend or not. _And maybe I can help him later._

Kenma tried to keep this in mind, shutting off the voices that reminded him how selfish he was being. Yes, he might be looking out for his own good and trying to satisfy the curiosity —as well as nipping his fear in the bud— but that didn't mean he could get something good out of it. He closed his eyes, giving the final 'click', thus opening the folder.

The first document to appear was the same one that contained the page that he had already read, so he didn’t spend more than a minute in it, going on to the next. This time it was a rather concise summary concerning his family history. Kuroo’s parents' plight was what caught Kenma's attention the most.

> _Separated parents. Mother completely relinquished custody, claiming that she did not wish to have contact in any way with her son. The Court sentenced a fixed visitation until the minor reaches the legal age, taking the mother's request regarding custody._

Kenma grimaced as he read this, one particular conversation coming to mind. He had ended up talking to Kuroo about family during one of those afternoons where work was slow, where Kuroo mentioned that he lived with his father and grandparents. Moreover, Kenma could say that he had never heard anything about the alpha's mother until now, which he did not give such importance to. It's not like it was ever relevant to know anything about the parent of the pain in the ass who was his new partner, and now he wasn't sure if it was important in the research context either.

 _Mommy issues_ , he thought, rolling his eyes. It sounded ridiculous, but he continued to read the information regarding the mother who, to his dislike, was _also_ an alpha.

Without finding relevant information, the beta went to the next document, which was the medical sheet. He felt his heart skip when he saw it, adrenaline pumping through his system. He read with his lip between his teeth as he shook one of his legs.

> _Exceptional resistance and strength. He does not present diseases of any kind, and his habits are healthy. He has scars on the lower abdomen, but there is no persistent internal damage._

Kenma read and reread the sheet, finding no other information to highlight. He clicked his tongue in frustration. Although the marks that he had known about for a long time were mentioned, the reason for them was not specified, which was _strange_. Normally, if you wanted to enter the police force, you had to give a full report on your past and present, including the story behind scars you had. Sure, they didn't ask you to describe the smallest marks, but Kuroo’s scar looked too much like a healed stab wound to not say anything about it. 

_"I had self-esteem issues in adolescence, very screwed up problems."_

"Self-esteem issues my balls," Kenma muttered through his teeth, jumping abruptly to the next document.

The next and last document, since the rest were videos, was his academic record, where Kuroo’s grades for each year of middle and high school were as well as a summary of all the institutions where he had been and his student profile.

> _Boy with a withdrawn nature and not very sociable, he does not adapt well to groups. He often gets into conflict with older students, so he spends most of his after-school hours in detention._

Inside his head, he tried to imagine Kuroo as a child, in a school uniform, and his legs full of band-aids. Considering how alpha growth worked — as they enter preadolescence, their size and strength increase exponentially, as does their aggressiveness — the idea of a child meddling with upperclassmen seemed surreal. And, even if he wasn't quite a toddler, the power difference between kids who were two or three years apart wasn't a joke when it came to the dominant gender. As a detective, it was not what he had direct contact with, but Kenma had already heard enough anecdotes of Iwaizumi and his fights with other alphas to have a clear picture.

 _Bullying maybe_ , he thought, rereading the description again. The Kuroo described there fit quite well with a profile of a victim of bullying, which would explain the fact that he did not adapt well to groups and was withdrawn. Or, well, at least it made sense within Kenma’s experience with the educational system and the behavior of the bastards who were bullies.

If it was already screwed between betas, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like between alphas.

Believing there was nothing else to get out of the document, Kozume was about to shut it all down and give up, with the idea of hitting his head against the table for overthinking things, when a footnote caught his eye. Written in italics, a small font, and a color so light that it made Kenma squint was written a short sentence that reignited the bad feeling that had been swarming in his head for weeks.

_Victim of the Weier-Geyser case._

That name rang a distant bell, maybe from some urban legend copied and pasted over and over again by forums, or from some whispered rumor in the streets. Whatever it was, it was enough to intensify the bad feeling, circling his head like a toxic cloud, clinging on with his long, bony fingers. Kenma opened another window in the browser, typing with a speed born of experience (he lived in front of screens) the name of the case, pausing when it came to "search." Again, doubt welled up in his head, accompanied by guilt. He had already gone through the important documents —there was only one performance report left within the police academy— as well as going over his head what little information might be relevant. As much as he wanted to deny it, there was nothing wrong with Kuroo, at least not how he projected it into his mind. _What if the alpha had anxiety problems just like him?_ It could be that he manifested that disorder in another way. After all, there were still many unknowns when it came to mental illnesses.

"It can't be _that_ bad," Kenma murmured, giving the final 'click', watching the screen begin to load. _Taking a look has never killed anyone._

Multiple hits appeared, most of them about urban legends or reports about a crime that occurred in North America, but nothing that was really useful. He browsed through a few of the websites out of curiosity, confirming that they had little or nothing to do with what he was looking for. Nowhere was Kuroo's name mentioned, or even a reference to the alpha community, so Kenma kept looking. He scrolled down the search page, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. In part, it frustrated him not to find anything, but he also felt some relief. _Maybe he_ had _just exaggerated things_.

Kenma was about to close the tab, when a result caught his attention. It was a news story about seven years ago, with a headline mentioning an academy that he did not know. On the surface, it had nothing to make it stand out except that it contained the words "alpha" and "homicide" within its previous description.

Kenma felt his mouth go dry as the black cloud dug its claws into his skull. He clicked on the link, feeling his own pulse against his eardrums as the page loaded.

_"Nightmare in the Bathrooms: A Boy Is Stabbed Over 30 Times at Nekoma High School."_

The headline was enough to freeze Kenma’s blood. There was a photo of the front of the mentioned institution, where the "α" logo seemed to want to leave the screen and penetrate his head. _It must be a coincidence_ , he thought, moving the pointer to the scroll bar. _It has to be_.

> _During the afternoon of last Tuesday, a janitor found the first-year student, Kuroo Tetsurō, bleeding in the bathrooms on the third floor of the main building. According to the words of this witness, the boy was unconscious in a pool of his own blood._
> 
> _"He wasn't even breathing, I thought he was dead," the janitor told the media._

The text was accompanied by two photos of the scene, which —despite their low quality by the equipment of the time— were enough to make his stomach turn and Kenma instinctively covered his mouth. Bile crept up his throat, burning his flesh and leaving a bitter taste against his tongue.

> _"He was lucky that they found him in time," one of the doctors who helped the victim when he arrived at the hospital mentioned, "They didn't pierce any organs, but he would have bled to death if he spent more time there."_
> 
> _As it was a rookie crime, the police did not take long to find the culprits: three third-year alphas, who would also be "recurring bullies" of the victim. After an interrogation that lasted three hours, the minors confessed to having abused the boy, and later stabbing him more than thirty times with a short-bladed knife. Fluid remains were found that belonged to the oldest of them, RS._

Hundreds of possible scenarios flashed before Kenma’s eyes, causing him to double over himself. His eyes burned open, unable to detach himself from the horrible words written on the screen. His chest ached, and with each passing second it was harder to breathe. _It must not be true, it cannot be._

> _In addition to the trial against the minors, the victim's family will file a lawsuit against Nekoma High School for the lack of security and control over the behavior of its students._
> 
> _This case would be added to the hundreds of incidents that occur year after year in educational institutions for alphas, which have the highest statistics of violence at the international level._

Images from security cameras finished off the end of the story, showing blurred silhouettes of four people: two were holding the smallest, while a third seemed to nail something. Part of the head of the person being held could be seen, showing that chaotic hair that Kenma already knew by heart. And maybe it was this or Kenma’s surprisingly vivid imagination replicating the crime in his head that made him pick up the trash can that sat next to the desk, bending his head over it, and vomiting. He didn't have much in his stomach —some soda and an onigiri that Bokuto gave him to account for his improvement in the kitchen— but it was enough to burn his throat. It also came out of his nose, making him cough and gasp like a fish out of water, his head hanging limp.

The pressure in Kenma’s chest was unbearable, crushing his heart and lungs until he felt suffocated. His eyes burned, clouding over with tears. He shouldn't have seen any of that. He had gone too far, and all because of that stupid bad feeling that was now just a soft whisper. _How could he look Kuroo in the eye again?_ It was one thing to know about his parents' divorce — it wouldn't be difficult to bring it up in casual conversation and feign surprise — but this was _different_ . Kuroo might not even want to remember it given that it was such a traumatic memory that he lied about his scars, and that the mere idea of others knowing about it made him desperate. _What would he say if he found out what Kenma had done?_ Reviewing his past behind his back, searching through his wounds and reopening them as if they were a spectacle.

White noise filled Kenma’s head, making him shiver. He gasped for air, feeling his eyes bulge out of their sockets as the cold bit into his limbs. He knew that feeling well enough, and he knew that it was just the beginning of something he wouldn't be able to control later. He got up from the desk, slamming Akaashi's laptop shut, clutching the edge of the table like his life depended on it.

 _Kuro is going to hate me._ His thoughts were pure chaos, and making even the attempt of taking a step feel like hell . The world spun around him, where the horizon was diluted. _I’m a stupid piece of shit._

Kenma scratched the furniture, putting a hand to his mouth, a poor reflection out of nausea. His vision was clouded and he was _choking_. In his head, the images of the crime formed until they became almost tangible, to the point where he heard things. The moans of a Kuroo who could not have been more than 15 years old, the horrible laughter of the upperclassmen, the flesh tearing apart, bodies colliding, blood splattering the tiles. And he was just another spectator, studying the scene as if it were some kind of macabre experiment, taking notes to try to indulge a selfish desire, an irrational fear that his own anxiety had created.

_He really was a monster._

"Oi, _Ken-chan_ ." The office door opened, revealing Oikawa's silhouette. He wore square glasses dangling from the tip of his nose, and he was staring at a pale pink folio. “Did _Akaachin_ say something about—?”

The moment the alpha looked up, his expression broke, extinguishing the rest of the sentence. Kenma couldn't say anything in return, the lack of air only allowing him to gasp, but he tried to hide behind his long hair anyway. Given that he already hated being the center of attention in a normal context, being seen in a panic attack was exasperating enough to make him suffocate even more. His lungs burned, his heart was racing so fast it felt like it was about to explode. Cold sweat soaked his face, mixing with the tears that fell from his eyes. He gritted his teeth, scratching at the desk until he felt his nails chipping. He was going to die, he was sure of that, _but didn't he deserve it?_

"Ken-chan, come." A gentle touch made him look up again, meeting Oikawa's dark eyes squarely. He had a serious expression, and some urgency danced inside his pupils. He had placed the folio on the desk, resting his huge hands on the beta’s small shoulders. “Sit down, come on.”

Perhaps it was the softness in his voice, or the pressure he exerted with his palms, but Kenma obeyed without question. Since he didn’t have the strength to fight back, what could he do? Start sobbing and make a fuss? He had enough with what he had seen, so the possibility of Kuroo coming to his aid would be too much for his system. The mere idea of him asking him questions, of seeing his face distorted by worry, only to turn into anger and disappointment when he saw what he was hiding in the laptop... 

Kenma’s throat closed, making the act of breathing even more painful.

"Ken-chan, _look at me_." Oikawa's call brought him back, causing him to focus on his face again. Apparently he had inadvertently lowered his gaze, lost in his own spiral of chaos. “Let's breathe together, okay? Follow me.”

The alpha knelt in front of him, so that they were more or less at the same height. He felt those enormous hands grasp his in a way that was so delicate that it seemed the caress of the breeze. Oikawa’s skin burned, giving Kenma the same sensation as when he brought his hands to the heater during cold nights. This image distracted him enough to be able to nod, and thus concentrate on following the others actions.

Oikawa inhaled deeply through his nose, encouraging Kenma to do the same. He held his breath for a few seconds, before exhaling through his mouth gently, then inhaling again. They repeated this cycle several times, gradually calming the fire that the beta felt inside. His heart rate began to stabilize, and the buzzing in his ears reduced to a dull, distant beep as heat returned to his extremities. He focused on his partner's eyes, on the details of his expression.

 _Brown irises, with a lighter ring in the center. Thin eyebrows, tilted inward. Small, straight nose_ , he described each feature, forming the words in his head and letting them float, thus extinguishing strange ideas. _Long, dark eyelashes, fair skin…_

After a few minutes doing the breathing exercise and losing himself in Oikawa's face, peace returned to his body, accompanied by a hint of embarrassment that made him take his hands away from the other’s and look away. His chest still ached a little, mostly from the previous muscle tension, but he could control it.

Noticing this, Oikawa stood up, reflexively shaking non-existent dirt from his knees. He adjusted the glasses on the top of his nose before turning around and taking the sheet of paper he had set aside. Kenma wanted to say something, but no sound escaped his mouth.

"I'm not going to ask what happened," Oikawa spoke, regaining his normal tone of voice. His attitude was respectful, far from that mocking alpha who attacked anyone on-sight at every opportunity.

"I-I..." Kenma’s voice came out shaky, in a way that felt so pathetic that embarrassment warmed his ears. He swallowed hard, gathering his thoughts before speaking. “I... I’m sorry.”

"Don't apologize," Oikawa replied, waving a hand to dismiss the matter. A closed smile spread across his face, thus regaining his usual carefree expression.

"Uh." Silence. He looked down, starting to fiddle with his fingers. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, not knowing what else to say. His thoughts intertwined with emotions, forming a mess that even he did not understand. Still, he tried. “I-I don't mean to sound rude, but could you—?”

“Not tell anyone?” Oikawa asked, raising an eyebrow. The beta nodded. “I wasn't gonna do it anyways, who do you take me for?”

“No, no! It's just... Well, _y’know_.”

Another silence, where Kenma could hear his heart racing. _Why the hell couldn't he communicate like a normal person?_ His nerves always gnawed at him at the wrong times, as it was then. He wanted to say something, he had to, even if it was to thank him for having helped him in such an unpleasant moment, but again he made no sound. He continued to bite the inside of his cheek, until he felt the metallic taste of blood dancing in his mouth, _he really was pathetic._

"Oi, Kenma." Oikawa's soft voice made him look up, meeting those piercing dark eyes. A strange sensation twisted in his chest, he hadn't heard him calling him by his given name in a long time. “Look, I know we're not that close or anything, but the situation we're in affects us all.” The alpha bit his lips, bringing his free hand to the back of his neck, in a gesture that hovered between nervousness and discomfort. “So... if you need to talk or something, you know where to find me.”

"Uh." Those sincere words left Kenma blank for a few seconds, but it didn't take him long to react. “Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.”

"Well," Oikawa cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. In itself it was rare to see him nervous, and even more so after being genuinely nice to someone. "I have things to do, I'll talk to Akaachin later.”

And the alpha left in the same way he came, waving goodbye and trying to hide the soft blush that covered his cheeks. On his part, Kenma sat in the chair, staring at the office door, taking in what the hell had just happened.

* * *

A week passed since Kenma’s discovery, and he thought that he would really die.

Anxiety gnawed at him day and night, filling his head with horrible nightmares of Kuroo being abused over and over by faceless alphas. He would wake up crying, in the middle of a panic attack, in those moments he got up and walked towards the bathroom as best as he could and forced himself to swallow a couple of pain relievers that scratched his throat, then waited for them to take effect. It was for this very reason that he increased the dose of his anxiety medication from two pills to three a day, which made him feel drowsier than usual, but were able to calm the night terrors. It was obvious that doing this was a hazard to his health —the possibility of an overdose was a constant that he preferred to ignore— but he saw no other way around it. After all, there was still time for his next psychiatrist appointment, and it wasn't like he was going to keep up with that pace for the rest of his life. 

It was thanks to the increase in dose that he was able to carry out his day to day without collapsing, but that did not stop the issue of the news report from continuing to spin through his head. Just like he would do with a regular murder case, he tried to connect the dots, staying up late into the night just doing that, thinking. For this reason —and some comments from Akaashi, who was increasingly concerned about his health— he decided to write everything down in a small notebook that he found at the bottom of a drawer in his office, taking it as a kind of "personal diary" to get everything out of his head.

There, he brainstormed all of his ideas, writing down from facts to fantasies that crossed his mind regarding the case.

He linked Kuroo's first "episode" —the one where he threw up at the crime scene— to the attempted murder. Looking at it in perspective and remembering his words, it was almost predictable what would end up happening. It could be that the alpha, after years of what happened, had thought that it no longer affected him, bumping into reality. Maybe he had been through some kind of therapy that made him feel so self-confident, or he might not; those kinds of things weren't so easy to infer.

These were the only pieces that fit together completely, while the rest of his notes were jumbled theories that didn't even seem to have any connection to each other.

One of them was the possibility that Kuroo had some kind of dissociative disorder where he suffered outbursts of anger that led him to attack other alphas and then fall into mental loopholes where he forgot what he had done. The dates of his injuries coincided with the appearance of new bodies, and his physical characteristics fitted well with their criminal profile. Still, for Kenma, this was a mere _fantasy_.

The murderer they were looking for left no trace, which led to the belief that they knew what they were doing. A person with violent outbursts who later forgot everything they had done would not be aware of their actions, so they would not seek to hide them either. And if they came to himself after the crime and had a chance to clean up, the mental breakdown they would have would be enough to cause them to take suspicious attitudes, or even turn themselves in to the police. To think that there were criminals with "multiple personalities" who killed consciously and had some control over their illness was nonsense fueled by fictional movies.

But —despite the logical explanation behind it— he wrote down this idea anyway, mostly as a way to distract himself, amused at the thought that someone could believe such nonsense.

Outside the notebook factor, his life continued with the same routine structure, although his relationship with Kuroo became stranger than it already was. Guilt gnawed at him every time the alpha spoke to him, and the conversations turned into a juggling game to avoid bringing up that topic. Obviously Kenma was curious, especially about the fate of the abusers and if they had paid for their crimes and how Kuroo felt about it, but he held back. That was _next_ to disrespectful, and he wouldn't be surprised if the alpha flipped his face in one single punch for getting into his life like that. Saying _‘sorry, the anxiety took over me and I had to do it’_ sounded stupid even in his head. Walking over others was not okay in any context, as hard as it was to accept it.

And Kenma knew it well, the pain in his heart reminded him daily.

His feelings for Kuroo melted with remorse, which was only fuel for the hurricane he carried within. He declined his invitations with clumsy excuses, avoiding the intimate moments they might have at work as much as possible, sometimes to the point of being rude. And it wasn’t like he no longer liked those things. On the contrary, he craved them in a way that he did not feel even about his games, but he knew it was not the right thing to do. He had betrayed Kuroo sticking his nose where he shouldn't, distrusting him despite having no real reason to do so.

Yes, Kuroo could be weird as shit, the biggest nerd of all and smell like a crime scene where the killer decided to give the forensics team a run for their money, but he wasn’t a bad person. The alpha always acted carefully, respecting Kenma’s space no matter the situation, caring for him more than himself would like. He looked at his expressions, reading them, knowing the exact words to say at the right times. He was observant, remembering even the silliest things and asking him about them, showing a genuine interest in knowing more about him.

And Kenma felt like shit, _a stupid piece of shit_.

“Oi, Kenma!”

It was Friday again, and the night was accompanied by a cold snowfall. Snowflakes fell from the black sky, accumulating on cars and sidewalks. The time to go home had come, and the beta was standing out there, with his back to the stairs of Station 512. He had paused for a few moments to observe this winter scene, absorbed in contemplation of his inner chaos, until that voice that caused him a mixture of emotion and pain interrupted him, making him turn his head in his direction.

Stepping out the glass door was Kuroo, panting behind a long gray scarf that covered half of his face. He was wearing the same coat he had once lent him, which brought back bitter memories: angry screams, an expression breaking, apologies whispered through tears. The blonde's mouth twisted, grateful that only his eyes were visible under the amount of clothing he was wearing. At the time he had apologized, yes, but now he felt that it was _not enough_.

A life full of errors, so many that he lacked fingers to count them.

"Aw, you look like a Persian cat," muttered the alpha, with his typical smirk crossing his face, half hidden by the scarf. Kozume blinked, not understanding, watching as the other descended the front steps. He was wearing dark jeans, so tight they seemed about to explode on his marked musculature, which was enough for the beta to squint, his mouth feeling like a desert. _If it wasn't the hands, it was the legs_. “Y’know, how you wear so many clothes on you being so small, it resembles what it would be—”

"I get it, idiot," Kenma spat, rolling his eyes. He turned his gaze to the front, trying to ignore the other's closeness. They were only a couple of steps away from each other, and yet it felt like it was even less. Kenma’s heart would jump out of his throat at any second. “You said the same thing in the morning.”

“Oh, really?” Kuroo replied, surprised. There was a moment of silence, where only the crunch of his soles was heard against the frozen ground. For a moment, Kenma thought that the other had given up, but then he felt hands rest on his shoulders. A warm breath caressed his eyes, accompanied by the soft scent of a masculine perfume. No blood, just _chocolate_. “And did I tell you how pretty you look like this?”

A chill ran down Kenma’s spine, making him wince and pull away from the other's grasp. His face burned, and the hideous hyena laugh the alpha gave only added to his embarrassment. _Idiot_ , he thought, fighting the urge to kick him in the balls.

"Hey, hey, I was just kidding," he muttered, laughing, raising his palms in peace. The beta frowned, killing him over and over with his gaze. “Oh-ho-ho, what an intimidating face!”

_"Fuck you."_

Kenma made an attempt to leave and end the conversation, but as soon as he turned to go to his car, he felt someone grab him by the arm. It was Kuroo again, although this time his expression was far from mocking: his smile had disappeared and his eyes, usually sharp and perceptive, looked nervous. His posture was tense, just enough for alarms to go off inside Kenma, triggering his pulse and sending adrenaline pumping through his system at top speed.

"Kenma…" Kuroo murmured hoarsely. The beta's heart contracted painfully, making him hold his breath for a few seconds. He didn't want to hear what followed that, but his body didn't move. He was glued to the ground, frozen in panic. _Maybe he had noticed?_ “Are you mad at me? You've been acting strange for weeks.”

"Uh." Kenma swallowed, feeling a cold sweat run down his spine. His more emotional part wanted to be sincere, to say the horrible things he did and to apologize, but the rational side was crushing him. _What did he expect, to be forgiven just like that?_ The world didn't work that way, things weren't as easy as apologizing and hoping for a happy ending. “... N-No.”

"That sounds like a yes."

"I'm just... tired, from work, y’know." That lie came from his lips like a whisper, burning his throat. The fact that worry washed over the alpha's face wasn't helping, least of all the sympathetic expression in his dark eyes. _Hate me, please_ , Kenma thought, as his chest was strangled with guilt, fueling the hurricane. “We haven't made any progress, and we're supposed to be the best at this.”

"Well, they're all the same," he replied, relaxing his posture. “These kinds of things are not that easy, after all. It would be great if they were, but we would be out of work, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

If that was a joke, Kenma didn't laugh. The silence between them lasted a couple of minutes, during which his mind raced, while Kuroo's hand on his arm grew heavier and heavier. The bitterness of the lie crept into his mouth, tasting so similar to bile that his stomach clenched. Breathing became a difficult task, and having his nose and mouth covered by a scarf didn't help at all.

Kuroo held his position, not even making a gesture of wanting to leave, and Kenma felt himself faint. _Why?_ he asked himself over and over again, letting the cool air enter his lungs, burning him inside. He had already answered his question, why was he still there? Did he suspect something? _Was it all just a game to spit his truths in his face?_

Kenma’s thoughts and emotions moved faster and faster, colliding and intertwining inside his head. Soon, he saw himself in the eye of a hurricane, becoming more and more chaotic. Things were hitting, others were breaking. _Why couldn't he breathe anymore?_

"Hey, are you really okay?"

The other’s words were a dagger in his heart, piercing his chest and sinking slowly, working its way between his ribs and ripping the flesh. It was no longer just the betrayal and lies, but he was making Kuroo worry about him when he shouldn't. Why didn't he go? What was the point of insisting on being with him? He was garbage, a storm that destroyed everything in its path, including himself. It had always been like this, so why did he think this time would be different?

“Kenma?”

Kenma looked down at the floor, trying to hide the tears that were gathering in his golden eyes. He didn't have the strength to loosen his grip and run, but he also didn't have the strength to face the problem and nip the issue in the bud either. He didn't want Kuroo to hate him. He couldn't bear the idea of seeing the other's face full of disappointment, the pain of knowing that someone he trusted would be able to stab him in the back. No matter how much he excused himself with his anxiety, with that terror he had of alphas, it was still a betrayal.

The hurricane roared, tossing his tiny body from side to side, splitting his bones and crushing his organs into a uniform mass. _Why was he so afraid of someone who had never hurt him, did it even make sense?_

_"... Kenma?"_

He bit the inside of his cheek until he felt that familiar metallic taste, this pain being enough for the chaos in his head to cease for a few seconds, where he could look up. Kuroo had an expression bathed in concern, which melded into surprise before reverting to his previous state, but intensified. The air between them grew thick, drowning Kenma even more, who was already a bit dizzy. He waited without knowing what would come, if _that something_ would be questions he could not answer or some kind of scolding for some reason that escaped him, but what happened was far from his expectations: Kuroo muttered a soft "Come here" before pulling Kenma’s arm, pulling him closer to hug him.

And maybe it was the warmth of the alpha's body, the comforting firmness of the arms that wrapped him or the aroma of chocolate impregnated in the other's sweater, but it didn't take long for Kenma to find himself crying. And he tried to contain it, to hide the hurricane, clenching his teeth and tensing his small body, but the lump in his throat was far greater and the tears kept rolling down. He buried his face in the alpha's chest, inhaling his sweet perfume, shivering at each sob. He felt a hand run up and down his back, over and over, in a crude attempt to comfort him, plus a pressure on the top of his head, which seemed to be a cheek or chin, Kenma wasn't sure.

Like an open valve, he released all the pressure that had been building up for weeks, long before he even read about the abuse. The paranoia of nightmares, the stress that the wounds on the other's skin caused him, the bitter taste of lies, insecurity, hatred and pain, all flowed out in the form of salty tears that soaked Kuroo's sweater, taking away the chaos of his head. There, with his nose buried in that toned chest and his hands clenched on the black coat, he allowed himself to be engulfed by the heat and the chocolate, letting it comfort him.

Kenma wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but it was long enough to calm his sobs. In the end, when he was only shaken by the occasional spasm, he planted his hands on the alpha's chest, pushing him gently. At this, the other let him go, sliding his hands up to the beta's narrow shoulders, as well as smiling at him when their gazes met. Kuroo's expression was anything but relaxed, his mouth being more of a crooked grin than a comforting smile, accompanied by a look that emanated concern and a certain sadness. His small eyebrows seemed about to merge into his frown, as well as curving at an angle Kozume didn't think possible.

They both remained silent, the beta being the one who broke eye contact first, shrinking and trying to hide behind the scarf that covered half his face. He clasped his hands in front of him, playing with his fingers, which had begun to ache from the cold. His face burned, especially the places where the tears had fallen. He felt he owed him an explanation, even if it was a stupid lie, but his mind was blank; the hurricane was gone.

In the end, it was Kuroo who spoke first.

"I... I know we haven't known each other that long," he began, with a serious tone. Kenma blinked, feeling the words rush through him. “There are many things I don't understand about you, things that baffle me and make me say _‘hey, what the hell is going on?’_ " He gave a bitter laugh, which sounded more like a lament. Kenma looked up, parting his lips to say something, an apology at least, but the other came forward. “I'm not saying it's your fault, maybe I'm too stupid to understand, but still... _I want to_ , y’know?”

Silence, where only their breaths were heard. For a moment, Kenma thought he saw the shadow of tears in those amber eyes, which disappeared in the blink of an eye. Kuroo's hands ran down his arms, coming to meet his, spreading them and intertwining their fingers with them. The touch caused small shivers, which crawled up his bones until they found his spine, losing themselves in the depths of the flesh. He swallowed, instinctively clinging to those fiery fingers, _since when did holding someone's hands feel so good?_

"I want to understand, and help, even if it's just talking," Kuroo muttered, looking down at where their hands met each other. He took in a large gulp of air, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing it on a heavy sigh. “What I mean is... _I care a lot about you_.” The beta's heart stopped for a moment, while his chest turned into a fire. “I'm not saying you owe me anything for that, but I can't do much if you don't tell me anything, Kenma.”

"I know," Kenma murmured. This was a good opportunity to be honest and confess what he had done, apologize, but the fear was still there, sticking its long nails into the wound.

"If I did something that bothered you—”

"No, no at all!" he replied, clasping Kuroo's hands between his own. Their gazes met for a few seconds, before Kenma lowered his again. He nibbled on his lower lip, searching for the right words before continuing. “There are certain impulses that… I find it difficult to ‘control’,” he murmured, emphasizing the last word, “It's not something that's easy to explain, I don't even understand it myself, and I end up doing... _horrible things_ .” He swallowed, feeling a burn go down his throat. The alpha's face looked even more puzzled than before, if that was even possible. _Say it, come on, say it you stupid piece of shit_ , and his thoughts turned into chaos. _The eye of the hurricane was forming again_. “I-I…”

“Kenma," Kuroo called him, shutting him up. The other’s hand released from his grip, rising to land on the beta's cheek, where he wiped away another slippery tear with his thumb. _When had he started crying again?_ “You're not forced to tell me anything if you don't feel ready,” he clarified, letting a tight smile appear on his face. Kenma felt his heart skip, making the whirlwind in his head tremble. He rocked from side to side, unsteady. “I can wait, I'm not going anywhere.”

The smile that spread across the alpha's face was bright, so sweet that Kenma's heart contracted again, bringing tears to his eyes. For a moment, his mind was silent, the swarm of thoughts that had plagued him for weeks disappearing, leaving a dull calm behind. The same lagoon as always, crystalline, this time reflecting the white colors of winter, obscured by storm clouds.

Without even thinking twice, he let go of Kuroo's hold, closing the little distance between them to hug him, wrapping his arms around his broad torso, burying his nose into his chest. He inhaled hard, letting the chocolate perfume flood his lungs, causing his skin to fill with little goosebumps that snaked up his spine and explode like fireworks. At this, the alpha reacted clumsily, blushing and stuttering at the sudden contact, taking a few seconds to reciprocate the little beta's hug, patting him on the back out of sheer inertia.

And, in that fleeting moment of clarity, wrapped by the heat and that new sweet scent, he was able to make a decision. He wasn't sure it would be beneficial to himself, his common sense screamed at him it wouldn’t, but deep down in his heart he knew it was the right thing to do.

Maybe he should stop avoiding his problems and tell Kuroo the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to itsNationJoy for the beta reading!!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09)


	5. Black star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to fix things, and Kenma doesn't really know if he's ready for the consequences of his actions.
> 
> TW: light NSFW.

Sometimes it was easier to say things, or so Kenma thought.

The days following the little chat he had with Kuroo outside the Station 512 were filled with failed attempts, far more than he would like to admit. He spent hours thinking about the right way to express himself,  carefully selecting the words he would say , analyzing them over and over again, but he never came to anything. If he wasn't interrupted by someone else — Bokuto's presence and even Akaashi’s could be a nuisance — his mind would go blank, causing him to hesitate and have to give up after a few minutes of awkward silence.

He would have liked to say that Kuroo was acting like a son of a bitch —it would have been the perfect excuse to throw everything away— but he wasn't. The alpha was always ready to listen to him, even though they had already tried the same conversation twenty or so times. He used to smile at him, extending one of his huge hands to rest on Kenma's head, stroking his straight hair, murmuring a "later we’ll go on" before attending to the interruption on duty.

He had a patience that Kenma could only dream of. The beta hated the nervousness of waiting, the  feeling of anxiety gnawing his insides leaving nothing but despair , which led him to make terrible decisions. But Kuroo wasn't like that, not at all. He acted natural, never pressuring him to speak up and nip the matter in bud, so considerate that Kenma could feel his pancreas twist in his gut.

He liked sweet things, yes, but only in food; people were a level he never thought to enter.

"Oi, Kenma."

And there it was again, that deep voice that appeared in his head more than he could have tolerated a few months ago, now feeling like something that was always with him. Kenma looked up, meeting Kuroo's smiling expression.

It was Wednesday, perhaps one of the coldest days of the whole month, and they were both in the same  _ Johnny Rockets _ they had gone to long ago with Akaashi and Bokuto, although now it was just the two of them. They had been organizing the mountains of paperwork that flooded the office, when Kuroo came out with the idea of going to lunch there, bringing up the delicious apple pie they prepared, in addition to the fact that the place was heated. Just the former would have been enough, but the temptation of being able to maintain his body temperature without being huddled under a thousand layers of clothing finally convinced him, causing him to give in.

There were not many people in the restaurant, so they took one of the best seats: in front of one of the windows, right next to the black heater they had installed. They were served by Saeko, who had changed her _ pixie girl _ haircut to one with the side parting, leaving a diagonal fringe. Kenma asked for the same thing as last time, adding tea, while Kuroo opted for a cortado. After about fifteen minutes of silent waiting where the beta was dedicated to fiddling with his phone, the girl arrived with their orders, leaving them in front of them and wishing them  bon appétit .

“Oi, Kenma!”

It had been a while since that, where Kenma dedicated himself to pecking the apple pie, keeping his eyes away from Kuroo, at least until that moment where he lifted them up after hearing his name again.

"Someone's distracted, huh?" Kuroo teased. The corners of his mouth were curled up, just enough to give his expression a mysterious air. With one hand he stirred the coffee, while he rested his chin on the other. “What are you thinking about?”

"Uh, nothing special," Kenma replied, in a tone lower than he would have liked. In the background there was a song that spoke of a certain Bobby McGee and how much the narrator loved him, but he could not care less. His eyes were glued to Kuroo, absorbing every little detail, stunned at the fuzzy cloud that was his feelings. He swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “It’s... nice.”

“Are you saying it because of the place, or because of the incredible company?” Kenma felt his heart skip, though his expression wandered quite far from that. He frowned slightly, just enough for the alpha to laugh. “C’mon, c’mon, I'm just kidding.”

"You'd be a great comedian, that's for sure," he blurted out, with marked sarcasm. Kenma returned his golden eyes to his food, picking up the fork between his fingers and slicing off a small piece of pie, bringing it to his mouth. If heaven existed, it would surely taste like apple pie.

"It's not my fault I have a difficult audience, y’know." Kuroo muttered, spreading his smile a bit more. He looked down at the coffee, giving it a couple more turns with the spoon, before gracefully taking it out and setting it aside. He took the small cup by the handle, bringing it to his lips to take a long sip, closing his amber eyes. On his part, Kenma felt like he stayed longer than he should watching the show. “I didn't think you would agree to come here.”

"Uh, it's more comfortable than having your ass frozen in the office," he muttered, scratching his cheek. Strands of hair fell over Kenma's face, so he tucked them behind his ear. “Besides, I owed you, didn't I?”

"Oh, you remembered." Kuroo's smile widened even more, and a soft blush colored his cheeks. Kenma couldn't help but think of a dog, a big, drooling black one. “To be honest, I thought you would forget about the date.”

"Maybe I did," he murmured, looking down again. This time he reached for the cup of tea instead of the fork, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. So much sweetness would end up killing him. “Or maybe I'm not referring to anything in particular, letting you draw your own conclusions. "

“As cruel as ever," the alpha blurted out, chuckling, before falling silent.

Kuroo's eyes stayed on Kenma, while his face seemed to cradle more in his huge hand. The beta, on his part, felt his heart climb up his throat, he was receiving more attention than his nervous system could tolerate.

They stayed like that for a while, letting the music from the restaurant wash over them. The song by this Bobby McGee was over, unmistakable guitar notes beginning to resonate, followed by the caramelized voice of Mick Jagger. The temperature of the room seemed to rise, suffocating Kenma, who no longer knew if the heater was too high or it was his body that was boiling.

“What?” Kenma croaked. His palms were sweating, and he didn't know where to look.  _ He's doing it on purpose _ , he thought, feeling the irritation rise to the pit of his stomach.

"Nothing, I was just thinking." Kenma said nothing, staring at him without a particular expression, waiting for him to continue speaking. “Y’know I like you, right?”

"You already said it."

"Well, _ I like you a lot _ ," Kuroo smiled showing his white teeth.

_ “... Why?” _

That question came from the bottom of Kenma’s soul, burning his throat. A bittersweet taste flooded every corner of his mouth, and he couldn't help frowning at the unpleasant sensation. His thoughts became chaotic, going here and there without a fixed course. He didn't really know why he had said that, what was the use of it? It would only bring him trouble, but still there was that irrational part of him that wanted to know more. Perhaps it was due to distrust, an incredulity that was born from the depths of his gut at the idea of someone  _ liking him _ , or perhaps it was just another reflection of guilt.

His palms began to tingle, while Kuroo's face changed into an expression of surprise.

“Uh? Why?” Kuroo repeated, as if he was trying to digest it. He lifted his chin from his hand, lowering his eyes to the table, perhaps searching for some answer. “Well, you are the smartest person I know, and you are also very cute.”

“Yeah, right.”

"I'm serious," Kuroo continued,  shifting his position . He put both arms on the table, crossing them before him. "I've never seen anyone analyze things the way you do."

“And that is enough for you to say that I am a good match?” Kenma spat, frowning. Like little bubbles, each of the mistakes he'd made swarmed through his head again, crushing his heart.  _ “You don't know shit.” _

"That doesn't mean I can't like you, does it?" The beta's mouth twisted, looking away at the half-eaten apple pie. Kuroo's amber eyes pierced his head, with an intensity he preferred not to look directly at. “I don't understand what bothers you so much.”

"I'm not a good person."

The images of the _Weier-Geyser_ case came back to Kenma like a blast of icy air, making him shiver. It was a good time to tell Kuroo what he had done, his reasons and apologize properly, but the words escaped him. A lump had formed in his throat, and fear clung to his heart, squeezing it into an unrecognizable mass of flesh. Kenma didn’t want the little and nothing between Kuroo and him to be reduced to ashes by his mistakes.He didn’t want Kuroo to hate him.

“And who says that? You?” Kuroo replied, in a tone that contained some irritation. He was frowning, and his usual smirk was completely gone. “Listen, I know we haven't known each other for that long, but I've seen enough to say you're not bad.”

"I'm shit, Kuroo," Kenma said, emphasizing the first word. “A shitty person who acts selfishly and doesn't measure consequences.”

"Fuck, you talk like you've committed a crime or something."

“ _ You could say I have.” _

There was a moment of silence, long enough for discomfort to fill the atmosphere between them, becoming almost palpable. Kenma took a great breath of air, encouraging himself to look up and face Kuroo, who was watching him with doubt flowing from each of his pores. That was definitely a good time to tell him and apologize, and take out everything that he had been saving for weeks. Most likely, the alpha would send him to fuck himself, that was clear, but still he had the stupid hope that he would forgive him.

_ He had had his reasons for doing it, hadn't he? _

Kenma pursed his lips, searching for the right words, repeating over and over all the speeches he had prepared for that moment. Nothing was enough, if it didn't sound too selfish, it would seem like the typical apology that some politician in trouble would give.  _ Oh, he really sucked at that kind of thing. _

"Kuro, I—”

"Kuroo, Kenma!"

Bokuto's booming voice was enough to break the tension, making both men turn their heads in the direction of the entrance to the  _ Johnny Rockets _ . The door had been fully opened, reaching out to see the bristly hair of the alpha, who was looking at them with a long smile and wide eyes. Behind him was Akaashi, who by his expression and the way he moved his lips to say something to the other, seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable.

It was a matter of moments for Bokuto to reach Kuroo's side, hugging him by the shoulders and speaking to him in the typical affectionate tone that he used to use with him, in addition to the typical  _ bro  _ this and  _ bro  _ that. From his part, Kenma took advantage of the distraction to breathe again, letting the tension in his chest dissolve little by little. Anyone would have felt saved from this timely irruption, but he could only feel the storm rising within him.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Bokuto exclaimed, with his typical excessive volume for the place where he was. He seemed much happier than usual. “It's a date? You two could have invited us!”

"Bokuto-san, keep your voice down," Akaashi muttered, laying his hand on his subordinate's arm. The alpha reacted to the contact, nodding and giving a terse apology, resuming his position next to the omega. Akaashi let out a sigh, turning his face to look at those at the table, with an expression that hovered between fatigue and stress. “I hope we haven't interrupted anything.”

"No, you haven't," Kuroo replied, smiling at the newcomers. Kenma felt his heart twist, he could feel the annoyance welling up from the alpha, but he could only nod silently, avoiding as much as possible to look Akaashi in the eye. If his friend noticed that something was happening, the questions would not be long in coming. “Something happened?”

" The Headquarters sent new orders ," Akaashi explained, putting a hand to his face, rubbing his eyelids under his square glasses. Dark bags lay under his eyes, staining his snowy skin and making his gray gaze sickly. “They won't give us Christmas Eve or Christmas off.”

"That’s bad news."

“Right?” This time it was Bokuto who spoke, again using a tone that was too loud. “Man, I had a dinner planned!”

"It was sudden, they decided it this morning," Akaashi continued, in an almost inaudible murmur. Kuroo elbowed Bokuto in the ribs, causing him to curse before he realized what he was referring to. Within moments, the crisp-haired alpha reached for two chairs, offering one to the omega to sit on, which he silently accepted. “A connection has been found between the murderer's victims and a drug trafficking group.”

"That is an unexpected  _ plot twist _ ," Kuroo muttered, with a slight mockery in his voice. No one laughed or said anything at this, so he continued. “Well, drugs, what does it have to do with the killer we're looking for?”

"They make a type of methamphetamine that can generate violent outbursts in their users," the omega explained quietly. Kenma felt the air leave his lungs as a burn settled in his right forearm. Flashes of old memories crossed his mind, and it didn't take long for the blood to drain from his face. If he hadn't been sitting, his knees would have buckled. “They are just speculations, but the Headquarters want us to be prepared for anything.”

"... Will there be a raid?"

The words spilled from Kenma's lips, falling dry against the table. They all fell silent, the alphas out of sheer ignorance and the others out of that dark omen that loomed over their heads. He and Akaashi knew what kinds of things could happen when drugged alphas were involved, and that this might be linked to the homicides didn't improve the picture.

It was one thing to have a serial killer on the loose, quite another to have one with stimulants in their system. In the first case, a behavioral profile could be drawn, predict their future steps, and thus trap them within their own territory, but the second was literally opening Pandora's box. The mere idea of someone like that being loose on the streets was enough to chill anyone's blood, and Kenma was no exception.

After all, he already had experience with such monsters, and he didn't feel like having more in the near future.

“... It’s possible.”

Akaashi took a few moments to answer. He had rested both arms on the table, hunched over enough that the position was uncomfortable. And it wasn’t like Kenma was very far from that, sinking into his seat until his knees met Kuroo's. Whatever his concerns had been up to that point, they faded with the news.

Of all the bad things that could have happened within the case, a relation with drug dealers was the worst, not to mention the possible raid. In a world where certain individuals had a physical advantage over the rest, these types of operations were transformed into hotbeds of violence and death, and this without even considering the effects that stimulants had on the opposite side. It wasn’t uncommon for an agent to lose control over the pheromone broth, and for his companions to be forced to execute him to avoid further problems.

And if that was just for alphas, what was left for betas like him was much worse. The last time Kenma was into something like this, he ended up with his arm bones shattered and his face covered in blood, and yet he still had to consider himself lucky on the whole.

A couple of months without moving and an ugly scar were much better than seeing his best friend being abused and killed, there was no doubt about that.

“Can't we do something, I don't know, near the station?” After a long silence, Bokuto was the first to speak. His round eyes moved from side to side, his hands hovering in an attempt to make gestures that would help him explain himself. He was nervous, it was the first time Kenma had seen him like this. “My apartment is a few blocks away, we could spend Christmas there.”

"It's a good idea," Kuroo agreed. After hearing him speak, Kenma looked down at the group, without any particular expression. “If something happens, we would all be together and it wouldn’t be necessary to go for the equipment.”

"Bokuto-san, it's great, but..." Akaashi brought both hands to his face again to rub it. The glasses slid to the tip of his nose, about to fall. “It's too much, I couldn't—”

“Of course not!” The alpha interrupted him, straightening up. He brought his hands up to the omega's, moving them away from his face, intertwining his fingers with Akaashi’s. In another situation, Kenma might have thrown up at the tenderness, but his mind was elsewhere. The scar on his forearm burned, and he could feel those teeth dig into his flesh again. “I can't think of anything better than spending Christmas with you and the others!”

Akaashi swallowed, lowering his gray eyes. From the trembling on his lip, it was easy to tell that he was on the verge of tears, like every time his emotions overwhelmed him. Even so, he held back, just enough to nod and get a huge smile from Bokuto, who didn’t hesitate to hug him and fill him with kisses like nothing.

On his part, Kenma was still gone, feeling his blood pool everywhere except in his head. His limbs were heavy, and a layer of cold sweat covered his back. He tried with all his might to include himself in the conversation around him, but the voices felt far away, as if he were sinking into the ocean. The memories were more and more vivid: heavy breathing against his skin, hot blood spilling on the floor, that characteristic crunch of bones when breaking, a heavy body crushing him, Akaashi's whimpers. So many horrible things, things that no one had to live through.

_ And despite everything, we were lucky. _

"Oi, Kenma."

Kuroo's voice dragged Kenma back to the restaurant. Everyone was looking at him silently, expectantly, the way people used to look after asking an important question. His heart skipped a beat, and nervousness waved through his chest. He blinked, forcing himself to breathe, _ how long had he been holding his breath? _

"Since you don't know the address of Bokuto's apartment, I can take you," Kuroo explained. “Well, if that doesn't bother you.”

"Ah..." Kenma blinked again, harder, shaking his head. In another context, he would have responded scathingly to the alpha's words, but the stupor seemed not to want to leave his head and his voice barely reached a whisper. “It's okay.”

“Then Operation Christmas is on!”

Bokuto finished his words with a laugh, which was the equivalent for Kenma to pounding his eardrums with a hammer. The urge to finish his meal had been weakened, and the sweet scent of apple pie even made his stomach turn. Even so, Kenma tried to maintain a stoic expression, praying that no one would speak to him again for the rest of the lunch hour.

Not even a cigarette would be enough to calm him down.

* * *

The days went by faster than ever, and Christmas Eve arrived in a matter of a sigh.

After the little argument Kenma had with Kuroo, even conceiving sleep became a challenge. He spent his nights with his eyes glued to the ceiling, feeling phantom touches that prevented him from even closing his eyelids a little. Paranoia shot up, adrenaline was injected directly into his veins, and he ended up turning on his console to let time pass until dawn. The lack of rest ended up taking its toll, sometimes in the form of momentary blackouts at work —the bathroom could be very comfortable to stay in those moments— or as a persistent migraine that even the strongest _ibuprofen_ couldn't calm.

And this was without even considering the matter of the raid, which he preferred to ignore for his sanity, or at least what was left of it.

Kenma bit the inside of his cheek, taking a long look at his reflection in the mirror. His skin was paler than usual, the whites of his eyes were crossed by capillaries that accentuated the fatigue in his look, the huge purple bags under them being the perfect complement. He had tried to dress something more formal, taking a shirt and a jacket that he thought would look good, but the result was far from that: he looked like a rack with two clothes on top, hastily put on and with enough wrinkles to believe they had never been through an ironing board.

"Pathetic," he muttered, yanking his clothes off and dropping them to the floor, before leaving the bathroom in search of something more comfortable.

For some reason that eluded him, he wanted to look good tonight. Maybe it was because he planned to apologize to Kuroo —did that count as an important occasion?—, or the fact that Iwaizumi would bring his camera, and he didn't want to ruin the photos, but the idea of looking like a human waste didn't suit him at all. There was little or nothing to do with his shitty face and expression; he had hoped that a shirt and jacket would make it look passable, but no. Clearly, he wasn't so lucky, and would have to work with nothingness itself.

Kenma picked up a thick black sweatshirt, along with an ordinary t-shirt and pants of the same color. The clock on his bedside table read fifteen minutes to nine, so his "carriage" —a term Kuroo had screwed up with enough to earn himself a kick in the shins— must be coming. To tell the truth, Kenma didn’t understand why the alpha had offered to come for him so casually after their discussion, and even less considering the reason that led them to that. Kuroo's feelings weren’t a problem; in another context, a quick rejection or ignoring them would have been enough, but they were  _ reciprocal _ , and they mixed with the stupid guilt that gnawed at him inside.

The tragicomedy was turning into a tasteless dram, and Kenma couldn't take it anymore.

The familiar voice of  _ Navi _ echoed through his apartment with her classic  _ "hey, listen!" _ , pulling Kenma out of his thoughts. He shuffled over to the bed, where he had left his phone a while ago, and saw that he had a new message.

**[12/25 21:51 pm] Kuro: I'm downstairs (= ↀωↀ =) ✧**

A small smile crossed Kenma’s face, unconscious, lingering there for a few seconds before returning to his usual neutral expression. He put the phone in his pocket, as well as grabbing the keys and a scarf, then putting on his slippers and leaving the apartment. He preferred to go down the stairs, more than anything because his heart seemed to want to jump out of his chest. Kenma went over the apologies he was planning to say a thousand times, including the apology for the _ Johnny Rockets _ discussion _. _

_ Kuro, what happened was not your fault, it was mine _ . His feet raced down the steps, and he was looking at them more out of inertia than anything else. The atmosphere, despite still being inside the building, was frozen.  _ I went into your files and found out what happened. I was scared, and very worried about you, but that doesn't justify what I did. I'm sorry, and I'll understand if you don't want to forgive me. _

Kenma reached the first floor, and soon went through to face the glass door that would take him outside. Through it, he caught a glimpse of a light blue  _ 1976 Plymouth Volaré _ , which was stopped by the sidewalk. He had never seen the alpha's car before —not that he cared about that kind of stuff— but by the huge hands gripping the wheel he knew it was him. His heart skipped a beat when he opened the door, leaving the safety of his building, feeling his pulse increase with each step he took. Each beat thundered in Kenma’s eardrums, and nervousness turned his legs to a jelly-like mass. Clouds of mist formed before him, dissolving into the cold air as the car grew closer and closer. Through the tinted windows he could see a silhouette, outlined against the yellowish light of the lanterns.

Hugging himself to keep warm, Kenma hurried to the passenger door, which was opened from the inside to make things easier for him. He jumped into the Plymouth, closing the door after sitting down, letting out a sigh of relief as the warmth of the cabin enveloped him.

"It seems someone is cold."

Kuroo's deep voice made Kenma’s face turn in his direction, meeting an image that made him hesitate. The alpha wore a white crew neck t-shirt, plus a suit — _ checkered black, black plaid windowpane _ — and a silver buckle belt. His pants were at the waist, tight to his body, giving him a much more stylized appearance. His hair, usually messy in seemingly pointless spikes, was slicked back, at least enough to give him a neater look. Again, a perfume with intense notes of chocolate emanated from Kuroo’s body, becoming almost suffocating in the cabin.

And maybe Kenma stared at him longer than he should, judging by the long smile that crossed Kuroo's face.

“You like what you see?”

"I thought you would bring that grungy black coat," Kenma snapped, looking straight ahead. Small flakes of snow had begun to fall, flashing under the car's headlights. He wasn't going to go down that easy, at least not with such a clichéd tactic. “Did you steal the car from your grandfather?”

"Actually, he gave it to me," Kuroo replied, looking straight ahead. He slid his right hand up to the ignition, turning the key with one deft movement. The engine started with a purr, much smoother than you'd expect from a last-century car. “He did it as soon as he found out that I would be entering the Police Forces.”

"Ah." Kenma nodded, not sure what to answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the alpha move the gearshift and legs, causing the car to start moving. He rummaged inside his head, digging into the arid soil that was his ability to carry on a conversation, trying to find some way to break the silence. After all, apologizing out of the blue was never a good idea, he had to pave the way first. “And… do you like it?”

“Of course! It's a  _ 1976 Plymouth Volaré _ .” From the tone of the alpha’s words, Kenma guessed that was something important, although he wasn't sure. Hopefully he knew a couple of models from _ Need For Speed _ . “I feel like Holden traveling through America.”

“Holden?”

"Holden, one of the main characters in  _ Mindhunter _ ," Kuroo clarified. Kenma wasn't sure what expression he made, but it was enough for the other to give him more details. “Y’know,  _ Mindhunter _ , the series about the study of serial killers.”

"I don't usually see that kind of things."

“It's great, surely you would like it!” he exclaimed. “It narrates the study that was done in the 70s to build the psychological profiles of violent criminals, the same ones that we use.” The alpha spoke excitedly, keeping a wide smile on his face. His eyes, still fixed on the road, flashed like never before. “It focuses more on the characters, but that doesn't mean it's not interesting.”

"... Uh, really?" Kenma’s answer was terse, at least in comparison to the euphoria that tinged Kuroo's words. Truth be told, he didn't expect the conversation to turn that way, let alone that something as silly as a series would be enough to get Kuroo so excited. Although, of course, he couldn't say much when he could spend hours talking about games.

"Yes, did you know they were based on the actual interviews?" he continued, turning his face in the beta’s direction for a few seconds before looking back at the road. That little instant was enough for Kenma's heart to skip, turning his head into a mess and making him forget the point of the conversation for a few seconds. “It's interesting to see the murderers talk about their lives, narrating their crimes as if they were the most normal thing in the world.”

"You’re really a nerd for that kind of thing."

"C’mon, they're great," he added, "at least from a scientific point of view."

"Yes, maybe."

"By far the most interesting is Edmund Kemper. He comes out quite a bit throughout the series.” Kuroo stopped, his lips parted.  He ran his amber eyes down the road , as if searching for something among the buildings and the ghostly lights of the lanterns. A slight blush stained his cheeks, as he brought a hand to his face to cover it. A sheepish giggle escaped him, very different from his usual laughter. At that moment, Kenma could definitely feel his liver die. “Ah, shit, I think I talked too much. I don't want to bore you with this type of thing.”

"No," Kenma murmured, shaking his head. Out of sheer inertia, he brought his hand up to the alpha's shoulder, just like he used to do with Akaashi when he went into his  _ "I think I'm talking too much" _ mode. When their eyes met each other, and he realized what he did, it was too late to back off and pretend nothing was wrong. “J-Just... go on. You really don't bore me.”

At that moment, Kenma opened Pandora's box.

Kuroo began to talk about the blissful series as if his life depended on it, although before he had the decency to ask him if  _ spoilers  _ bothered him —honestly, Kenma preferred to be informed when consuming something— before giving free rein to his mouth. Kuroo told him from the main plot to the background of the three main characters, emphasizing the details that he liked the most about each one. He also spoke of the murderers — Kemper, mainly— adding some details that he himself investigated in his spare time.

Kenma was already quite familiar with these cases —he had studied them thoroughly when he came to work as a detective— but he listened attentively anyway, nodding and asking a question or two from time to time. He was actually trying to take time to collect his thoughts and release what had been stuck in his chest for weeks, the _ damn _ apology, but he couldn't help lose himself in the alpha's face: he spoke with emotion, with a smile that only seemed to grow even more as time went by. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, causing them to lose their typical sharp gaze and look warmer.

And, for a moment, Kenma caught himself thinking how cute he looked like that, being happy.

The talk did not last more than twenty minutes, fading into silence. The purr of the engine filled the cabin, as well as the occasional sound from outside. Snowflakes accumulated on the glass, for just a few moments before being swept away by the windshield wipers. The movement was hypnotic, enough for Kenma to keep his gaze there, trying to avoid the whispers of his conscience.

This was the perfect time to speak. The initial tension was gone, and Kuroo seemed to be in a good mood. Although, wouldn't it be selfish of him to go and blurt out something like that? Surely Kuroo would be upset, offended like never before, and would decide to kick the beta out of the car, leaving him on the cold street. Well, at least Kenma would do that if he were in his position, and he really wanted the alpha to do that. The mere idea of seeing Kuroo break like that time he picked him up in the middle of the night, shaking and sobbing like a child, was enough to form a lump in his throat.

_ Hate me, please, hate me _ , he thought, his chest on fire.

"Oi, Kenma." Kuroo's voice broke the silence, piercing Kenma's ears like a dagger. He held his breath, forcing himself to keep his golden eyes on the road. Clean asphalt, shiny buildings, skyscrapers skimming the clouds.When had they entered the alpha zone? “If you want to say something, go ahead.”

“Uh?”

"Don't pretend you don’t want to," Kuroo replied, turning his face to Kenma. His amber eyes penetrated him, piercing his head and turning his thoughts into a storm. The lump in Kenma’s throat tightened, making even breathing a difficult task. “It shows on your face,” he continued, taking one hand off the wheel to point to the beta, before smiling and returning it to its place. His gaze fell on the road to turn a corner. “C’mon, spit it out.”

“Do you remember what I said when we went to the  _ Johnny Rockets?” _ Kenma spoke quickly, the words clashing against each other. His heart raced, pounding fast against his ribs. The air grew thick, clinging to his skin, crushing him under its weight. His hands were sweating, and he had to grip his thighs to keep them from trembling.

“That about you being a bad person and shit?”

“Mm-hmm.”

"Kenma, you know what I think—”

"I went into the police files and read your file."

That was out of Kenma’s mouth before he could even think twice, overwhelmed by his own panic at the situation. The speeches that he prepared, the words that he wrote over and over again in his notebook, the apologies that he repeated a thousand times in front of the mirror, everything vanished leaving a void behind it, where not even any specific emotion prevailed. The temperature in the cabin seemed to drop, while the air became thicker and denser as the seconds passed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kuroo's face stiffen, while his knuckles turned white from how hard he held the steering wheel. His mouth, previously with a long smile, became a fine line, where his lips practically vanished. His gaze was still fixed on the road, perhaps with a greater intensity than before.

And, on his seat, Kenma was falling apart.

The beta bit the inside of his cheek until he felt his own blood against his tongue, yearning to go back a couple of minutes ago, when he still hadn't said anything.  What had been the fucking point in avoiding the matter that much if he would end up ruin it anyways? It was stupid to think that things could turn out well, that Kuroo wouldn't get mad at him for being the biggest asshole in the universe, for going and betray him in such a despicable way. He deserved nothing but rejection, the absolute hatred, but he still had the stupid fantasy that things would end up well, that Kuroo wouldn't hate him after something like that.

_ Pathetic. _

The pain in Kenma’s chest was like a drop impacting against a crystalline surface, forming small waves that traveled through his body, reaching the most inhospitable corners of his body. His nails dug into the fabric of his jeans, feeling his fingers like daggers against the flesh of his thighs. His insides twisted in on themselves, tangled and knotted, filling his mouth with a familiar taste of bile. Kenma’s heart contracted until he was breathless, while his eyes seemed about to shoot out of their sockets. The agony increased exponentially as the silence went on, leading him to think that he would die right there, inside a car that must have been twice his age and reeked of air freshener.

_ You’re really pathetic. _

"... Did you tell someone else?" Kuroo murmured after a long silence. They had stopped at a red light, giving him the opportunity to put both hands to his face and rub it, as if trying to ward off the discomfort. On his part, Kenma could only shake his head. “Okay.”

“I-I just read it.” Kenma’s voice came out shaky, mechanical, making him feel like the muscles in his face would end up splitting his jaw with how tense they were. Each breath seemed to strangle his heart further. “I’m sorry.”

“It's okay.”

"I-I didn't mean to read it, just—”

"I said it's okay," the alpha cut him off, his tone dry. His voice had grown deep, hard, anger pouring out of every word he uttered. “Don't apologize anymore.”

Outside the car, the wind whistled, shaking the bare tops of the trees, lashing at them with cold fists. Snowflakes, once beautiful and elegantly falling, smashed against the glass with force, as if they wanted to freeze everything.

And Kenma could only sink into his seat, biting his tongue so as not to make things worse.

* * *

After about twenty minutes of awkward silence and furtive glances from Kenma, they reached their destination.

Kuroo turned into what looked like a residential complex of buildings that, from their bright and neat appearance, must have been the most expensive in the area. He stopped the car in front of a gate, where a guard appeared dressed in blue and with an "α" next to the name on his license plate. The two alphas exchanged a few words that Kenma did not hear, and not precisely out of disinterest. His concentration had gone to hell, and he could barely pay attention to what was happening around him.

A high-pitched buzz filled his head as he went over and over again to what had happened. Why the hell did he feel so bad? It was obvious what would follow the apologies, he had mentally prepared himself for the worst of situations, and he could tell that things turned out better than he expected. He was able to tell Kuroo the truth and apologize, now he only had to accept the answer that the other wanted to give him. Kenma was not in a position to demand anything, not even insisting was within his options —the alpha asked him not to continue— but still there was that irrational, sentimental corner, telling him that the matter was not solved and that he should insist.

_You wanted Kuroo to hate you, didn't you?_ _Now you have what you deserve_.

The guard let them in after making a call and confirming that their visit was expected, and they headed to the visitor parking lots. There Kuroo turned off the engine, getting out of the car without saying a word, so Kenma followed suit. The cold outside hit the beta’s face, trickling down the collar of his sweatshirt and making him shiver. He gritted his teeth, hugging himself in a desperate attempt to keep some warmth. On his part, the alpha had gone to the back of the car, opening the trunk and taking out the typical white bag that they gave you in supermarkets.

"You had to bring something for dinner," Kuroo exclaimed, noticing Kenma's gaze on the bag. His expression went from curiosity to horror,  _ When did they say that he should bring something? _ “I figured you'd forget, so I brought an extra salad for you.”

"U-Uh, thanks."

The alpha nodded, locking his car before they both made their way to Bokuto's apartment. Kenma walked behind Kuroo, keeping his gaze glued to the ground as he followed his pace, trying not to be a nuisance. In another context he wouldn’t have cared, perhaps joking about how Kuroo thought he was his mother or something like that, but at the moment he could barely keep a calm expression. The detail of the food had been like a punch in the gut.

They had to take the elevator, since they had to go up to the thirteenth floor. Fortunately, the journey was quite fast, so they were in front of the department in a matter of minutes. The alpha rang the bell, with his free hand, and the door was soon open.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto's head poked over the doorstep, smiling brightly. He was wearing a black short-sleeved t-shirt, plus a pair of shorts that made Kenma shiver,  _ wasn't he cold? _ “I'm glad you came!”

"It's not like we had a choice," Kuroo replied, in a sly tone. The other alpha’s smile didn’t waver, and it even seemed to widen even more. To appease Bokuto's happiness was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. “Man, what the hell are you wearing?”

“Hey, Kenma!” Bokuto exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend's question. The little beta shrank into his hoodie, feeling those yellow eyes pierce his head. He didn't dislike Bokuto, but at the moment the least he wanted was to talk. “Something happened to you? Man, you have a horrible face!”

"Uh..." Before he could say anything, Kuroo's body came between him and Bokuto, hiding him like a smoke screen would.

"Look who's talking," Kuroo replied, with a long smile. “Are you going to let us in, or what? We didn't travel half the city to stay in the corridor.”

“Oh, yeah! Come in and make yourself comfortable, my home is your home!”

Bokuto, flinching as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have, stepped aside, letting them pass inside.

Despite initial impressions of the residential area, the apartment was rather medium size. The entrance was made up of a short corridor, which led directly to the living room, made up of a long L-shaped sofa, a low glass table, and a flat-screen television hanging on the wall. Connected to the living room was the dining room, where there was a long dark wood table with matching chairs, plus a shaggy white rug that Kenma was surprised by how clean it was. A doorway led into the kitchen, from which he could see only the floor tiles, which had the typical checkerboard pattern. In one corner, there was the corridor that should lead to the rest of the rooms, showing two doors on each side plus one at the back, the latter having a small sign that said "bathroom."

The smell of pine turned the place into a whole forest, with such intensity that Kenma had to cover his nose.

The whole apartment was filled with various trinkets, from small non-figurative sculptures to paintings that looked like the fantasies of a schizophrenic. Although, above all, the most striking of all was a huge stone right next to the Christmas tree, which was quite contrasting with its earthy color. And Kenma, curious as he was, approached the strange stone, seeing that it had a small  _ sticker _ in the shape of a lightning bolt stuck to one side.  _ What the fuck? _ , he thought, as he extended his foot towards the stone, giving it a little push. Without warning, it began to move, growing limbs, scaring the beta to death.

It was a turtle.

“Oh, I see you already know _ Lightning McQueen!” _ Bokuto, who had accompanied Kuroo to the kitchen, was watching him from the doorway, with a wide smile on his face. Kenma frowned,  _ had he heard right? _

“ _ Lightning M _ — _?” _

“Yes!” Bokuto interrupted him. Before he could say anything, the alpha came across the space between them with two long strides, bending down to pick up the animal. He lifted it effortlessly, bringing it close to the beta's face. “He loves making new friends!”

"U-Uh."

Kenma didn't know what to answer, and having the small head of the turtle so close didn't help him. He tried to walk away, but Bokuto insisted on pulling the turtle closer again, cornering Kenma against the edge of the sofa. He thought of sneaking out, saying he was allergic to reptiles or some nonsense like that, but in the end he didn't have to do any of that: like a fallen angel from Heaven, Akaashi appeared from the kitchen doorway, wiping his hands with a cloth.

"Bokuto-san, don't put  _ that  _ so close to Kenma," Akaashi exclaimed, his voice soft. His expression was serene, and much of the fatigue that had been accumulating for weeks had vanished, barely leaving dark circles. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of skinny jeans in the same color, which did nothing but stylize the omega's handsome figure. If it weren't for the apron tied around his friend’s waist, he would look like a magazine model.

“Akaaaaashi!” Bokuto whimpered, turning in the other's direction. Kenma took advantage of that moment of confusion to escape, going to the far corner of the sofa where he could no longer be harassed him with the turtle. “ _ That _ has name!”

"Well, don't bring Lightning so close to Kenma," Akaashi corrected, his tone tired. This was enough to rekindle the alpha's spirits, who smiled in a way that seemed like his face would split in two. “Iwaizumi-san called, asked you to pick him up and Oikawa-san from the parking lot.”

“Eh? They can't find the address?”

“... Something like that.” from his friend's tone and the face he made, Kenma could guess what was happening. As always, the pair of alphas ended up arguing, probably yelling over something as insignificant as an address.

"Mm." Bokuto put his turtle on the floor, before yelling so loudly that was surely heard in the hallway. “Oi, Kuroo! Will you come with me?!”

“Give me a moment!” Kuroo answered, hearing sounds of things colliding in the background.

In a matter of minutes, both alphas left the apartment, not before Akaashi had Bokuto put on a jacket and long pants. Silence was not long in coming as they walked down the hall, finally Kenma was able to sigh and relax his posture. He had been tense the entire time, without realizing it, and now his muscles were stiff. The idea of curling up on the couch and taking a nap was tempting, how long had it been since he had a moment of peace? Two, three weeks?

The beta stretched, murmuring with pleasure as his joints clicked. Maybe he needed that, to rest a little, to let things settle and thus be clear about his options. His eyelids grew heavy, closing little by little, while his limbs went numb from the pleasant heat that flooded the room. He snuggled into the soft cushions of the sofa, letting out one last huff.

A crash similar to that made by a metal tray when falling and Akaashi's voice cursing was enough to drive away the drowsiness, causing him to stand up. Rest could wait.

In the kitchen, Kenma had taken a cloth to dry the dishes, while Akaashi finished heating something in the oven. From the smell he could guess that it was something meaty, but he didn't dare to ask what exactly it was. And it wasn’t that he didn't care, the thought of having to eat something he didn't like was enough to make him frown, but he knew well that talking to his friend would lead to uncomfortable questions.

But not even the silence or the elusive glances were enough against the strong perception of the omega.

"So, did you talk to Kuroo-san?”

“Uh?” Kenma's body tensed like a bow. During all that time he hadn't said anything to Akaashi about things that pertained to Kuroo, least of all the matter of the investigation and its discoveries. Those things would be dynamite for his friend's nervous system, and the least he really wanted was to put more people in that rotten shit hole.

"About how you feel and stuff." Kenma wasn't sure what expression he made when he looked at Akaashi, but it was enough to make him frown with concern. “Ah, did you argue? I'm sorry my—"

“Something like that," Kenma muttered, before the other finished apologizing. His heart contracted, and a thick lump settled in his throat. Despite this, he struggled to keep his expression neutral.  _ Ruining one’s person night is enough _ . “It's nothing, really.”

"You don't sound like it’s nothing," he replied. Akaashi put down the oven mitts, moving closer to him. And before Kenma could even think of a good excuse to get away, he already had the omega's hands on his shoulders, in addition to that worried look that only those gray eyes could have. He felt tiny, and it was no longer just his head that made him taller. “Kenma... you know you can tell me anything.”

"I already told you, it's nothing." Kenma gently pushed the other's hands away, unable to meet his eyes. _ How could he do it, anyway? _ “We just... we argued over something I did.” The words crawled out of his mouth, heavy, falling to the floor. “I was nervous, an-and maybe I didn't explain it to him in the best way, and… ” Kenma swallowed, and the lump in his throat grew more painful. He gritted his teeth, feeling his eyes burn. “You should have seen the face he made... Kuroo really must hate me, y’know?” A bitter laugh escaped him, being more like a cry. The pain in his chest was suffocating, and Kenma felt like he would be out of breath at any moment. “I'm pathetic, don't you think?”

"Kenma..." 

Akaashi's arms went around him before he could even refuse, giving him a comforting hug. The scent of wet earth invaded every one of Kenma’s pores, while he hid his face in the curve of the omega's neck. A couple of tears rolled down his cheeks, and Kenma saw himself clinging to his friend's body, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left.

Pain ran through him from cover to cover, crashing into the corners of his body like waves would crash against rocks. It wasn’t the kind where you burst into tears, feeling that your soul is torn in each sob you give, but it was more silent. Slow, suffocating,  that kind of pains that come from the lower part of the stomach and burn everything in its path, leaving the feeling that you have something stuck in your throat. A horrible, heavy sensation that Kenma could no longer suppress no matter how hard he tried.

He had reached his limit.

Kenma wasn't sure how long they stayed like this, but it was the sound of the front door that made them move away. He quickly wiped the tear trails off his cheeks, while Akaashi adjusted his sweater. That reminded him of the typical Hollywood movie scene, where the protagonists hid that they had had contact with each other. They were usually related to romantic issues, so he couldn't help feeling a little ridiculous that his was due to a nervous breakdown.

_ It's still better than a panic attack _ , he thought, as he left the kitchen behind Akaashi to greet the newcomers.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were dressed in what would be called an insult to good taste: matching Christmas sweaters. Iwaizumi's was dark green, with the silhouette of what appeared to be a dinosaur at chest height, being a lighter green. On his part, Oikawa's was somewhat more conventional, red and with a cartoon of  _ Rudolf the reindeer _ on the front. As much as they didn't look bad on those, seeing two alphas dressed in such a childish way stirred up a strange feeling in Kenma, sending an unpleasant chill down his spine. The cringe was real.

If he had seen them on the street, he would have changed the sidewalk.

When all the guests were already there, the party started: Bokuto brought glasses and different plates with snacks —in addition to a plate full of  _ onigiri _ just for Akaashi— while the rest sat in the living room. Kenma took over the same corner where he had tried to sleep just ten minutes ago, silently thanking when he saw Kuroo sit in an armchair, a safe distance between them. Iwaizumi sat next to him on the sofa, and next to him was Oikawa. On his part, Akaashi also sat on the other side, in a high-backed chair with thick arms, making it seem that the furniture wanted to swallow the omega.

The conversation flowed naturally, but it wasn't until Bokuto decided to go for the "heavy weaponry" —a quantity of liquor worthy of a bar — that things didn't perk up. Oikawa hooked up his phone to the stereo, putting on a playlist of pop hits from the  _ 90s _ , while Iwaizumi recounted old anecdotes about missions and strange cases they had to investigate. Kuroo also told a couple of things, mostly about his time at the police academy, these being the ones that drew the loudest laughs from the group.

And Kenma? He just remained silent, nodding whenever his name was mentioned, but not contributing anything.

The feeling of discomfort persisted, to the point where he still had a lump stuck in his throat. His limbs were numb, stiff, awash in a pain that was becoming more and more real. Every beat of his heart was an ordeal, and this added to the fact that, as hard as he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off Kuroo.

The urge to go up to Kuroo and tell him the rest of the story, explain even a little why he did what he did, was strong, enough to fill him with a strange sense of anxiety. Truth be told, at this point Kenma hadn't expected to be forgiven for some out of the blue plot convenience, but at least he believed it would be a less abrupt way to end things.

_ You don't really want Kuroo to hate you, do you? _

Kenma shook his head, looking down at the small glass he held in his hands, half full of whiskey. He saw glimpses of his reflection in the amber liquid, but he could only think of Kuroo's eyes, the look he had after knowing the truth, and he couldn't help but twist his mouth. No, he didn't want Kuroo to hate him, his heart ached just thinking about it, but still a part of him wanted things to be this way. He deserved this and much more, for being a shitty person who had no emotional intelligence, for saying "this is because of the anxiety" to justify his actions, for thinking only of himself when acting, and for not giving a shit about the feelings of the people he supposedly loved.

It wasn't the alphas, the bad habits, or the horrible things that he had to experience.  _ It was him, it had always been him _ .

“Oi, Bokuto! Can I go to the balcony?” Kuroo's voice rose above the others, piercing Kenma's ears like a pair of daggers.

“Sure, man! Just be careful not to slip.”

There was a creak, followed by heavy footsteps and the sound of the glass door opening, ending with the same sound in addition to the click it gave when closing. This was enough to reactivate Kenma's body, who raised his head and looked at his side, straightening up enough to look over Iwaizumi's shoulder.

"Oikawa, do you have any cigarettes?" Kenma’s voice felt distant, as if he were hearing it from the bottom of a swimming pool. The mentioned alpha turned his face in his direction, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot.  _ He was drunk. _

“Sure, Ken-chan!” Oikawa crooned in response. He leaned in, disappearing from sight for a few seconds, before reappearing with a seven-pack, spreading it behind the back of Iwaizumi's neck to offer it to him. They were Marlboro, but from the fresh smell and the green stripe that adorned the box it was not hard to tell that something was wrong with them.  _ Menthol _ . “Take what you want!”

"Uh, yeah, thanks."

Despite the almost physical rejection Kenma felt at the idea of smoking such an aberration, he picked one up, again thanking Oikawa with a nod when he handed him a lighter. The beta didn't think twice about getting to his feet, muttering a terse apology before scooting out onto the balcony, yanking the glass door open and closing it behind him. The icy wind hit his body, bristling his skin and sending shivers down his spine. The mist of his breath swirled in front of him, thinning out.

And there was Kuroo, with his arms resting on the edge of the balcony, his figure being cut by the artificial lights of the metropolis. With the noise Kenma had made when closing the glass door, it would not be surprising if the alpha noticed his presence, it was the most logical thing, but even so he had the illusion of being a ghost spectator, contemplating a play from his comfortable armchair. A scene where he did not exist, only Kuroo, with that strange beauty that radiated without really trying.

Another breath of the icy wind was enough to drive away those strange thoughts.  _ Maybe I'm just stupid _ , he thought, shrinking into his hoodie.

He walked to the balcony railing, which was made of a steel and glass frame. His guts twisted with vertigo at the sight, but he swallowed his discomfort and stood next to Kuroo, casually leaning on the metal railing. Kenma put the cigarette between his lips, lighting it on the first try, an almost impossible feat in the current of air.

"... I didn't know you liked mentholated," Kuroo spoke, his gaze lost somewhere in the city. His tone was soft, causal, a good sign. It could be that he wasn't upset anymore, or at least not so much.

"It's from Oikawa."

"That makes more sense," he replied sarcastically. Out of the corner of his eye, Kenma saw the shadow of a smile appear on the alpha's face, though it was gone in the blink of an eye. His posture was tense, hunched over as if he wanted to dive into the void. “Menthol cigarettes sound like something  _ Oika'a-kun _ would like _.” _

"It isn’t that bad though," Kenma murmured, taking a drag. The mixture of hot smoke and the coolness of mint made his mouth twist.  _ Well no, it was fucking bad. _

“Why did you follow me?” Kuroo muttered, turning his face in the beta's direction. His expression was serious, and in the amber of his eyes danced the shadows of an approaching storm.

"I wanted... to talk, I guess."

“About what? You already did it in the car.”

"You didn't let me finish." Kenma raised his eyes, fixing them on Kuroo's. He had always been told that looking directly at an alpha could lead to violence, he himself had seen it more than once, but still he held the contact. He expected some kind of rejection, something that would tell him to back off and stop insisting, but he found nothing.

“I’m listening.”

Kenma blinked, looking away towards the city, searching for the right words before continuing. He was silent for a couple of minutes, letting the cigarette burn between his lips, watching the smoke rise until it was lost in a starless sky. He thought, going over all the speeches he had planned, the things he wanted to say, the way he preferred to do it, putting together, disarming, and reassembling his words over and over again.

Kenma sighed, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and began.

"I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Kenma muttered, keeping his gaze on the landscape. The snow had stopped falling, making everything look much bleaker.

"Well thanks, I guess."

"I... I'm not going to justify myself, okay?" he clarified, turning to the alpha. Kuroo stood up, looking at him from his almost six feet tall. “What I did was horrible, shitty in every way and… ” Kenma stopped, suddenly gasping for breath. He swallowed, feeling the lump reappear in his throat. “It was an accumulation of things. The wounds you had, your... scars, that time I went to pick you up in the middle of the night.” The words were pouring out of his mouth faster and faster, flowing like water in a river. He took in a great breath of cold air, which burned his lungs. “I was really scared, Kuro, even more so when you lied to me every time I asked you about it.”

"Oho, you say that as if it were easy."

"I'm not saying it is, I just..." Kenma’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water. The lump returned to his throat, strangling the rest of the sentence. He snapped his mouth shut, swallowing hard, trying to force the pain away, but it didn't. His eyes burned, and it wasn't just from the cold. “... I'm sorry, Kuro.”

Silence. A gust of blizzard whipped their bodies, shaking their clothes and biting into any exposed skin in its path. Kenma lowered his face, waiting for the final answer that would bring closure to the conflict. With his jaw clenched, he prepared himself for yells, insults, curses, and even a slap, but it was the least expected what he ended up receiving: a gentle caress on his hair, where his black roots were born.

He looked up, meeting Kuroo, with an expression that he couldn't define as anything other than pain.

“... Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" Kuroo asked. He had frowned, curling his eyebrows upward, his mouth tightening until it became a fine line. His hand was warm against Kenma's head, heavy, but not unpleasant. Kuroo put his hand away before continuing to speak, looking from side to side as if searching for something. “If it’s that so, I—”

“No!” Kenma answered, hastily, in a panic. His heart ached, and every second he spent looking at Kuroo's face the feeling worsened. His breath hitched, being an indication of the sobs that wanted to tear him from within. “No, i-it's not your fault…”

“So?”

"Uh..." Kenma’s mind became a mess, where the memories were accumulating, colliding with each other and melting into a single chaotic mass. Unconsciously, he had grasped his right forearm, squeezing it to the point that his knuckles turned white. There, under the black hoodie, that horrible scar shaped like two half-moons burned like it was on fire. “It's not you…”

“ _ It's not you, it's me? _ I didn't think you were so cliché,” Kuroo joked, but Kenma didn't laugh. The feelings also began to build up, leaving the beta’s body in a stupor where he couldn't move. The pain expanded, making his limbs numb, turning the mere act of breathing into constant agony.  _ It's me, it's always been me _ . “... Kenma?"

"Ah." Kenma shook his head, releasing his right arm. He rubbed his face with the back of the hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette, trying to push away bad thoughts. “It's nothing, it's just… ” The broken bones, spilled blood, and Akaashi's expression falling apart returned to his head. From the tension, he ended up snapping the cigarette in two, feeling the fire nibble on his fingers. Kenma felt like he was choking on his own breath. “Just… "

“Kenma.”

Kuroo's voice was harsh, just enough to cut through his pathetic chatter. Kenma snapped his mouth shut, looking down again. At some point, he had begun to tremble, looking at how the world grew hazy before his eyes thanks to the persistent tears. He blinked over and over again, taking short breaths, trying to calm the storm that raged inside him. He wanted to speak, he really wanted to, but he couldn't.

_ Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic _ .

The remains of the cigarette slipped from Kenma’s hand, falling and spilling its contents onto the balcony tiles. His jaw was tense, making his teeth grind and gnash, making it hell to maintain a neutral expression. He bent over and tried to put his hands to his head, but Kuroo caught him by the wrists, stopping him. Kuroo lowered them, stroking where the skin turned red from the pressure, causing Kenma's heart to contract painfully.

"Kenma," Kuroo called again, causing him to look up. He didn't know how to interpret the alpha's expression, was he upset, sad, or worried? It was everything, but nothing at the same time. “You don't have to tell me anything if you don't feel ready, remember?” he continued, in a soft tone. A smile brew onto his face, and a couple of tears fell down Kenma's cheeks. “Apologies are fine, don't worry.”

"B-But I-I..." Kenma’s voice trailed off, and the words broke before him, forming a pitiful mosaic. He closed his mouth, pressing his lips together until they became a fine line on his face. Frustration gnawed at him, and the tears kept falling.

"I know I said I want to understand why you do certain things." Kuroo placed a hand on the beta's right cheek, holding his face. He brushed away a couple of tears with his thumb, an action that sent little chills down Kenma's skin. He swallowed hard, feeling the lump scrape his throat. “But, if that hurts you... I can keep waiting.”

“B-But I did something horrible to you!” Kenma’s words were a pathetic cry that ripped through his throat and made his flesh burn. His body was trembling, Kenma didn't know how much longer he could hold on. The storm kept growing, and he couldn't even breathe anymore. “ _ I'm horrible…” _

"Well, it's not exactly nice for someone to sift through your past without permission," Kuroo answered honestly. Kenma lowered his eyes again, feeling the lump in his throat grow until something warm settled on his cheek. It was Kuroo again, this time cupping his face with both hands to lift his gaze. “But, we all make mistakes, and I'm not going to hate you for something stupid like that.”

“... You won’t?”

" _ Pf,  _ obviously” the alpha answered, letting out a nervous laugh. He shifted his amber eyes to the city for a few seconds, biting his lip, before continuing to speak. “It's not like I was the best example of sincerity, and there were even valid reasons for doing what you did," he continued," but you already apologized, and with that I have enough.”

“But—”

“But nothing, end of the matter!” Kuroo exclaimed, clutching Kenma's face in his hands. In another context, Kenma would have hated being squeezed like that, but the effervescence that filled his chest was enough to make even that feel good.  _ He doesn't hate me, Kuroo doesn't hate me _ . “So please, don't cry anymore…”

And maybe it was those last words, or the beautiful smile that Kuroo gave after these, but it was enough for the tears to start streaming down Kenma’s cheeks. The first sob felt like ripping through his chest, ripping him wide open and exposing his insides, draining what little willpower he had left. Soon the alpha's arms wrapped around him in a warm hug, and Kenma couldn't help but apologize.

The "I'm sorry" and “forgive me” came out of his mouth between hiccups and sobs, responded by caresses on the back and an occasional kiss on the top of the head. All the pressure, pain and guilt were leaving his body, becoming a mere wet stain on Kuroo's clothes. And Kenma felt weak, with his heart raw, showing that facet that he used to hide. So many years of lies, forced smiles and avoiding uncomfortable questions, of letting terror control his life and make decisions for him.

And he wanted to believe he deserved it somehow, he really wanted to, but he was tired.

Eventually, the sobs became softer and the tears stopped falling, letting the quiet fill Kenma’s little bubble of comfort and warmth again. At least that was for a few seconds, until Kenma realized it was now someone else who was shaking and sniffing. He gently pushed Kuroo's body apart, pulling away enough to see his face. His surprise was the next to capital letters.

"Kuro, are you... _ crying?" _

"Shut up," Kuroo murmured, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Traces of tears streaked his cheeks, which were stained red from something other than the cold. More than sadness, his expression swarmed between irritation and embarrassment, with a pout worthy of a small child. Kenma couldn't help giggling. “Damn it, it's not funny!”

“It is.”

“Of course not!”

"Yes."

“No!” 

Kenma laughed again, while Kuroo muttered something under his breath and looked away. Kuroo’s lips were pursed and his brow furrowed, as if he was struggling to contain his emotions, hiding his amber eyes behind his messy bangs. This made Kenma's heart skip, beating and pounding against his chest, as an idea filled his head.

Kenma didn't think twice before grabbing the alpha by the collar of his shirt, pulling it so that he leaned over, as he stood on tiptoe. Their lips collided, joining in a salty kiss of spilled tears and other things he preferred not to think about. It was barely a few seconds of contact before they separated, a mere intimate caress, but it was enough to drive away the sadness for good.

"Aw,  has the cat got your tongue? ," Kenma teased mockingly. Kuroo's expression was puzzled, his face being as red as tomatoes in the summer sun. He didn't react, and it even seemed like he had stopped breathing.  _ Cute _ . “Hey, Earth calling Kuro.”

"A-Ah, you… " Kuroo blushed even more, and Kenma had to fight the urge to laugh. Deep down, that idiot could have a rather cute side. “You kissed me!”

"Uh-huh, and?" he replied. “It's not a big deal either.”

“Of course it is!”

"You sound like a virgin." Kuroo's face reddened even more, and Kenma could no longer contain his laughter.  _ Too cute _ . “C’mon, let's go back inside, my ass is freezing.”

“I'm not a virgin!”

"As you say, sir I'm-not-a-virgin-but-I-collapse-for-a-kiss."

Kuroo spat out  a couple of words that were lost in the cold night breeze, trying to hide his flustered face behind his black bangs without success. Kenma caught his arm, pulling him, leading him to the balcony window, yanking it open to return inside the apartment.

They were greeted by the heat and laughter of lively conversation, but the only thing in the beta he could notice was the concerned look Akaashi gave him. The eye contact lasted just a few seconds, in which his friend asked him a thousand questions with those gray eyes, worried about what happened in the kitchen and what probably happened on the balcony, and Kenma answered them with a nod and a small smile. With this, the omega's expression relaxed, and he let his lips curve into a smile, thus corresponding to the other's.

_ Everything is fine now. _

“Kuro-chan, Ken-chan, you’re just in time!” Oikawa exclaimed, raising his arms in celebration. From the red on his cheeks, it was easy to tell that the alpha had drunk too much, or at least enough to be more childish than usual. And beside him, Iwaizumi seemed to be in a similar state, leaning against his partner's shoulder midway between sleep and wakefulness. “What color are Akaachin's eyes? Answer!”

"Uh..." Kenma blinked, not sure what to say. The cold from outside was biting his back, and he still had his head lost in what had just happened with Kuroo.  _ Besides, what kind of idiot would argue about a color?  _ "... Gray, I guess."

"I think they're blue," Kuroo said, leaning out of the side. His face still had traces of embarrassment, although they could easily be mistaken for a consequence of the cold on the balcony. He entered the apartment, closing the sliding door behind him, and Kenma gave him a meaningful look. “What? They’re quite blue.”

"Gray is similar to blue, but it’s not the same."

“Well, according to  _ Bubuchan, _ they’re not!” Oikawa exclaimed, pointing to Bokuto with the same hand that held his glass, which was filled with a slightly pink liquid, but Kenma couldn't care less. Only "Bubuchan" resounded in his head over and over again. “He says they’re green!”

“They are!” Bokuto replied, with a volume much louder than usual. His face was red from drunkenness too, though he was holding a can of beer. Sitting on his lap was Akaashi, who was muttering things to the alpha under his breath, probably about lowering his voice. “They’re green, and I can prove it!”

“Of course not, they are gray!”

Kenma and Kuroo looked at each other, without saying a word, before slipping into the free space left on the couch as the discussion continued to grow around them. They sat next to each other, having to squeeze in enough to get in and not disturb Iwaizumi, who was sleeping peacefully against Oikawa's shoulder.

The heat emanating from Kuroo's body was suffocating, and Kenma couldn't stop his pulse from increasing as Kuroo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hugging him carefully. The beta swallowed hard, raising his gaze to the alpha's face, meeting the fullest and most mocking smile he'd ever seen on the other's face. And, if it hadn’t been for the zero distance between them, Kenma would have given him a good stomp, the kind where you sink your heel into the other's foot until they scream for mercy.

But, unfortunately, Kenma could only lower his gaze and pretend that he had not seen anything.

"Blue, gray, green, I don't care!" Bokuto exclaimed, raising a fist in the air. For a moment, he seemed to forget what he was going to say, until he shook his head and puffed out his chest, pointing at Akaashi. “Whatever color they are, these are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen!”

After a few complaints from Akaashi, who was trying to hide his flushed face behind his hands, and the loud laughter from Bokuto who insisted on complimenting him and kissing his face, the conversation changed course and continued as if nothing had happened. Kenma picked up the glass of whiskey he had left behind, while Kuroo poured the remnants of rum from one of the many bottles on the table.

They all drank, laughed and talked, letting the hours go by. The Christmas cheer could be felt in the air, and even someone like Kenma was able to smile and join the conversation. With guilt out of his system, there were no more things to overthink, no problems to fill his head to the point of making him lose his breath; his mind felt light, raising as high as birds. And this was not counting the pleasant hug that surrounded his shoulders, pressing him against that hot body that so often appeared in his dreams. Feeling Kuroo's laugh against his body, every breath he took, the vibration of his hoarse voice, the brush of his knees, the caress of his fingers on the fabric, were things that made Kenma's heart pound.

_ How long had he not been this happy? _

Sip after sip, Kenma’s vision blurred, and the heat from his stomach spread throughout his body. His limbs were sleepy, heavy, and he could barely keep his head up. His thoughts were stalling, dissolving in the cloud of stupor produced by the whiskey, but he felt good,  _ so good. _

At some point, Kenma thought he muttered something about being tired to Kuroo, who nodded and stood up, helping him to do the same. The last thing he saw was Oikawa sleeping against Iwaizumi, who was still in the same state as hours ago, as well as Bokuto and Akaashi hugging and saying things that he could not understand, but did not care either. The only thing Kenma felt was the warmth of Kuroo, who was holding him by the shoulders, so he wouldn't fall.

They left the living room, going down the corridor full of doors that he had seen when he arrived, opening one that was to the right, at the back. Kenma was the first to go inside, finding what he assumed to be Bokuto's room: a double bed with blue sheets, white walls, and a deep-pile rug that covered most of the floor. The beta did not manage to pay attention to more details, since the 'click' of the door closing was enough to attract his attention, causing him to turn his face and meet Kuroo's gaze.

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments, losing themselves in the eyes of the other, before their bodies shifted on their own, colliding in an awkward embrace. Their mouths met, devouring each other, moving their lips against each other. The alpha's tongue slipped into Kenma’s mouth, as he felt those hands that kept him awake at night on his ass, digging his fingers into the flesh covered by the fabric of his pants.

From there, things became blurry, and somehow they both ended up on the bed: Kenma without pants, and Kuroo with his nose buried in the hair of his crotch, kissing and licking his dick. Small sighs escaped him at each touch of Kuroo's mouth, which he tried to suppress with all his might, but ended giving up when his erection was completely swallowed, feeling how that pair of lips that made him lose his head hit his pelvis.

"K-Kuro..."

Waves of heat ran down his belly, and Kenma could only gasp and shiver. The image before him was erotic, something he had only believed possible in his dreams, and that he could barely process from how drunk he was. Kenma could feel Kuroo's hands on his ass, holding him against his mouth, while his head moved up and down rhythmically. That pair of amber eyes seemed to shine in the gloom of the room, staring at him, piercing him without shame. Kenma felt the pressure of his tongue against his cock, brushing over and over his flesh, drawing more than a gasp from him each time he stroked the head.

With one hand tugging at Kuroo's dark hair and the other clinging to the sheets, he came, arching his back and letting out a high-pitched moan. The alpha received him without complaint, swallowing it like nothing, giving one last kiss to the tip of his cock before climbing on the beta, who was barely catching his breath.

"Gross, you swallowed it," Kenma muttered, before being silenced by Kuroo's lips.

Kenma felt the salty taste of his own cum, but that didn't stop him from reciprocating the kiss. He parted his lips, letting the other's tongue invade each of his corners, while the heat of his belly began to move towards his limbs, burning everything. He shivered and shuddered, letting pleasure cloud his head, at least until Kuroo's lips left his mouth and moved to his chin, leaving a wet trail of kisses down his neck.

As soon as Kenma felt the brush of Kuroo’s teeth, the heat was replaced by panic.

Perhaps it was a mixture of feeling that he was being crushed, how thick the air had become, or his emotions being out of control from the excess of alcohol, but the memories of the incident of the bite flooded his head making him react. Kenma pushed Kuroo by the shoulders, pushing him away.

“What, what's wrong?”

Kuroo's words felt distant, as if he were underwater. Before Kenma’s eyes, the horrible memory was vivid, racing his pulse and making breathing difficult. A stabbing pain crept up his right arm, and with every gasp he took he was running out of breath, choking on his own panic. His thoughts had turned into chaos, buzzing like a raging swarm, crashing into each other and letting anxiety take over. Kenma kept pushing Kuroo, even though the alpha had already taken his weight off him.

“Kenma, what is it?”

The beta didn't answer, he had stopped listening. He could feel the teeth sinking into his forearm, opening their way through his flesh and skin to the bone, splintering it under the pressure. The pain felt too real, to the point of making him whimper.

"P-Please, n-no..." Kenma’s eyes stung, and his throat had closed into a thick lump. Hot tears trickled down the sides of his face, lost in his hair, as the pain in his arm grew. Kenma could feel the smell of blood dancing on his nose, and see those wild eyes, engulfed by the black of the pupil.  _ He was going to die. _

"... Kenma?"

Kuroo stepped aside, at which point Kenma made an attempt to escape, collapsing sideways onto the sheets from dizziness. He was breathing rapidly, feeling the air burn his lungs, the lump in his throat growing more and more. His stomach clenched, and the sour taste of bile danced on his tongue.

"Kenma, look at me."

A hand brushed Kenma’s forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. His body contracted, and a sob tore from his throat, escaping his trembling lips. With his face contorted, Kenma watched the blurry figure of Kuroo approach him, merging with the one that swarmed his nightmares. Kenma’s right arm was on his stomach, grasping his forearm with his left hand. His knuckles had turned white, and he felt his fingers slowly go numb.

Kuroo leaned over him, muttering something he couldn't hear the first time, as he grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to sit up, where Kuroo held Kenma, so he wouldn't fall again. Horror bathed his features, and his gaze was filled with overwhelming concern.

"Breathe, breathe with me," Kuroo repeated, in a high-pitched voice that was not at all like his own. “Please _ breathe.” _

Kenma gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take in a deep breath, feeling his lungs howl in pain, before expelling it hard, over and over again. He was following the rhythm that Kuroo had set, letting the panic fade little by little, taking with him those memories that he had felt so real a few moments ago. The pain in his forearm lessened, leaving only the pain Kenma caused himself by holding on so tightly. His body stopped shaking, and the lump in his throat dissolved. Tears streamed down his cheeks, slipping under his chin and falling into the void, crashing against his bare legs.

Kenma clung to the pressure on his shoulders, Kuroo's amber eyes, the sound of his breathing and the details of his face, regaining control over his body. The weakness didn't take long to come, causing Kenma’s eyelids to drop and his body to lean forward, supported by the alpha's firm hands, which pulled him and left him on Kuroo's chest. There Kenma felt a single kiss on his forehead, in addition to the occasional diffuse caress on his back. He used the last of his energy to settle.

_ I’m sorry. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 03.30 am and I'm dying. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! The relationship between Kuroo and Kenma grows a little more, and their trust increases 👀👀👀  
> Here are the references i used to write this chapter: [IwaOi matching sweaters](https://twitter.com/amalasrosa/status/1209114149994803200), [kuroken nsfw comic](https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/71215222), [Kuroo's suit](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bebb5eff1cc51ee99748bb7811624ff1/tumblr_p8qre0nwjO1ug6qtlo1_500.jpg)
> 
> And here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09). I have cc if you wanna drop some theories, comments, questions... it's always open. Thanks for all the support, see y'all in the next chapter!! ❤️❤️


	6. Ultraviolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma is in free fall and doesn't know how to stop.
> 
> TW: graphic descriptions of physical violence, sexual harassment

Kenma woke up to the heat and pressure of an arm around his face.

For a moment, he didn't know where he was, causing his body to tighten like a bow. He gritted his teeth, hearing his pulse pounding against his eardrums, feeling his throat close in panic, until a soft smell invaded his nose: chocolate. Last night's memories came back to him like a wave, flooding every inch of his body, causing his muscles to relax, becoming a dead weight on the mattress.

Kenma blinked, before looking to his side. Kuroo was sleeping peacefully in his shirt and boxers, his face buried in the pillow and pressing him against his head. His snoring was soft, and the movement of his chest rhythmic, unflappable even when a shaft of light streaming through the curtains bathed him completely. Little specks of dust danced over the alpha, glinting in the golden light of dawn, almost giving a fantastic air to the scene.

The beta's heart jumped, gasping for a few seconds as his head processed what he was seeing. Desperate kisses, intimate caresses and whispers that had been lost in the shadows of the room swarmed through Kenma’s mind, being enough to make his skin crawl. He felt strange, locked in a sort of dream where the other side of the wall formed by bad memories was within reach, the view over the top.

A growl from Kuroo and a squeeze from his huge arm was enough to draw Kenma out of his stupor, bringing him back to reality between curses and the attempt to escape the alpha’s embrace. He had to use both hands to lift Kuroo's heavy arm, which had gone from a pleasant pressure to a suffocating constriction. After managing to get his head out, Kenma moved aside, dropping the dead weight that the other’s arm was between gasps. Kenma waited for Kuroo to wake up, to open his eyes between murmurs asking what was happening or where they were, but he just settled down and continued sleeping, snoring like it was nothing.

 _Asshole_ , Kenma thought, giving up the temptation of pushing him off the mattress.

Kenma sighed, looking around. Bokuto's room was not much different from what he had seen during the night, except that some things took a more recognizable form: a chair covered with clothes in the corner, clothes scattered on the floor, a rather strange pair of owl slippers... And _Akaashi’s_ _stuff_. Kenma recognized one of his friend's plants —a pink-flowered Sulcorebutia— sitting on the white wooden dresser in a flowerpot with what looked like a pattern of small birds, and next to it sat a pair of rectangular, thick framed glasses. There was also a red scarf on top of the chair that the omega used to wear quite a bit in winter.

These small details, added to the slight traces of that well-known scent of wet dirt, were enough to warm Kenma's chest. With how busy he had been, dealing with his mind for the past few weeks, he had forgotten to ask Akaashi about how things were going with Bokuto, so it was comforting to see that the relationship had progressed to that point. His friend wasn’t the kind of person who gained confidence quickly, even bordering on shyness on certain occasions, so something as simple as leaving things like a scarf or giving him one of his precious plants was an important milestone. _How much had he missed?_

Kenma’s mouth twisted, feeling prickles where the skin of his lips was cracked, little drops of blood gushing out. He licked his lips, savoring the metallic taste, realizing how dry his mouth was. Maybe later he would talk to Akaashi, after all it wasn't like it was wrong to bring up those topics, especially after seeing the obvious vestiges of a more "formal" relationship with that empty-headed alpha.

But first, he needed a glass of water.

The beta slid to the edge of the mattress, climbing off the bed and heading for the bedroom door, before realizing a small detail: he was naked from the waist down. Kenma knew quite well why —how could he have forgotten— but he didn't know where his clothes had gone or if they were still in one piece. Considering how desperate he and Kuroo had been, it wouldn't be strange to think that his pants ended up ripped or thrown out the window. Kenma frowned, muttering a couple of insults at his fucking luck as he moved around the room, searching. He ended up finding his pants lying behind the dresser, but there was no trace of his underwear. Resigned, he dressed, trying to ignore the strange sensation of the fabric brushing against his most sensitive areas. Now being more presentable—or so he wanted to think—Kenma left Bokuto's room, closing the door behind him, careful not to make noise.

The corridor, with its white walls and floating floor, it was so cold he could see his breath. The cold crept up his bare feet, biting into his skin and making him shiver under his black sweatshirt. The beta hugged himself, walking briskly to reach his destination soon. His head had started to ache at some point, reminiscing about every glass of whiskey he drank. _Was it even of a decent brand?_ Remembering the taste of it was enough to make his stomach turn, so he preferred to stop thinking about it and continue.

Going from faux wood to tile was hell, ripping off the beta a couple of bad words. The kitchen was dimly lit by the little to no dawn creeping over the threshold, giving it a gloomy appearance. Everything remained the same, except for a couple of dirty dishes and an open pantry where the profiles of some liquor bottles that had been saved from the massacre of the previous night appeared. Kenma slipped inside, looking for where Bokuto kept the clean crockery, stopping at a glass-door cupboard. _Bingo_.

Taking long strides Kenma approached, having to stand on tiptoe. He leaned against one of the many countertops, leaning over and stretching his body to the maximum, feeling terror invade him when the damn glass — which, unfortunately, was made of crystal and seemed to be expensive— wobbled, but thanks to this he could grab it. Kenma returned to his previous position, wanting to enjoy his victory but being assaulted by a twinge in his temples.

 _Ibuprofen_ , he thought, nibbling the inside of his cheek. Kenma looked around the kitchen again, stopping on a small detail that he had missed before. On one of the many cupboard doors, there was a red paper cross, that seemed to have been painted and cut out by a small child, taped, with its arms curving inward and barely holding to the white wood by a couple of pieces of duct tape.

If that hadn't been Bokuto's apartment, the beta would have been surprised, but that wasn’t the case.

Without thinking too much, Kenma walked over to the cabinet, yanking the door open after setting the glass aside. There were both boxes and bottles of pills, the vast majority being vitamin supplements, labeled and arranged in a way that could only be Akaashi's doing. He picked up a box that was next to other pain medications, and took out a pill. After this, Kenma left everything in its place and closed the cupboard, picking up the glass again and going to the dishwasher to fill it. He left the kitchen with the pill in one hand and the water in the other, and his gaze flicked to the living room, pausing for a moment.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were sleeping on the sofa, one on top of the other, while Bokuto and Akaashi were still on the couch. Despite the lack of blankets or awkward positions, peace flooded the faces of his partners. And when the sun rose high enough to peek its bright face through the balcony window and fill the living room with its golden light, Kenma's heart skipped a beat, pouring warmth into his chest, causing him to hold his breath. A little piece of happiness, bathed in the colors of dawn and the winter breeze, something to lose yourself in and forget about the shitty world where they lived; the murders, the alphas, the abuses... _What the hell did it matter?_ They were stones in the road, one that was worth walking through to see that kind of thing.

The view from the top, his top.

A brush against his leg was enough to distract the beta, causing him to look down at his feet, where he met an unexpected presence: it was Lightning McQueen, in a tailored sweater. White with black and yellow details, the clothing was handwoven, and featured the recognizable silhouette of an owl high on the back. _One of Bokuto's many eccentric purchases, maybe?_ It was the first time Kenma had seen turtle clothes, or a turtle with clothes on, although by now anything was expected from that dumb alpha.

Kenma shook his head, getting back on his way while the animal went about its business. He walked down the long hall in silence, being careful not to make a noise, pushing the door open with the side of his body and entering Bokuto's room without further ado.

“Good Morning.” A hoarse voice welcomed Kenma, making him flinch and spill some water. He frowned, looking up and meeting those amber eyes he loved and hated at the same time. “Oho, looks like someone got up on the left foot.”

"Shut the fuck up," Kenma spat. Kuroo watched him from the bed, half his face still buried in the pillows and an irritating smirk tugging at his lips. Strands of black hair fell over his eyes, making him look disheveled as well as cute, which made Kenma’s mouth twist. _How could that jerk be so ugly but so attractive at the same time?_ “What’s that face for.”

“Nothing.” Kenma frowned further, narrowing his eyes. “I just feel lucky.”

“Lucky? Why that?”

"’Cause I get to wake up and see your cute face.“ Whatever grimace Kenma did at that moment, it was enough to get one of his hideous laughs out of the alpha, and he didn’t lack the urge to go back to bed just to kick him. “Just kidding! You really have an expressive face.”

“You're _disgusting_.”

"You mean _charming_." Kenma grunted in response, rolling his eyes before continuing on his way. Ignoring the gaze on him, the beta walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, settling himself as he opened the hand where he held the pill. “Oi, what do you have there?”

“Ibuprofen.” Silence. Kenma really didn't know what kind of answer Kuroo was expecting, but he still had the urge to explain himself. “My head hurts a bit.”

"You shouldn't take medication like that," the alpha said in an annoyed tone. Of all the reactions he could have had, this was the least expected, so Kenma couldn't help but turn his head to look at him. For a moment, he thought he saw a flame ignite in those amber eyes. “Did you know that non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs tend to thin the blood, thus increasing the chances of a heart attack?”

_“Uh-huh."_

Kenma hadn't understood shit, but he guessed he meant ibuprofen by anti-inflammatory-who-knows-what. He looked away, staring at the small white pill in the center of his palm. He shook it from side to side, before looking back at Kuroo, who seemed to be more upset than before.

"I'm serious, Kenma."

“Did _I even say_ anything” The beta replied, furrowing his eyebrows until they turned into two straight lines. “I'm an adult y’know.”

"That doesn't mean you can be careless with your health."

"I'm not _that_ careless."

"You smoke menthol."

There was a moment of silence, where the beta felt the devil creep up his throat, and the other's triumphant smile didn't help at all.

"First, it was just once," Kenma clarified. “Second, what the fuck with that? You drink and I don't say anything to you.”

"Yeah, but processed tobacco is much worse than alcohol."

“Do you want to see statistics of deaths in car accidents involving alcohol?” The alpha's smile faded, while one appeared on Kenma's face. _Sweet victory_. “The ones of domestic violence are also interesting.”

"It's not a competition."

“Really? I didn't know,” Kenma murmured, with a long smirk.

Kenma made a move to put the pill in his mouth, but stopped at the last second. Kuroo was staring at him, with an expression that hovered between that of Puss in Boots and that of a run-over rat, a mixture as horrible as it was guilt-generating. Because, yeah, he felt a little guilty seeing that expression, enough to push the pill away from his mouth and relinquish his position.

"... I'll take half of it," Kenma muttered, refusing to look at the huge smile Kuroo cracked. _You have become weak, Kozume Kenma_. “Y’know you're a pain in the ass, right?

"It’s a pleasure to be a pain in your pretty ass," Kuroo laughed. Kenma offered him the pill, in a silent request for help. He took it without further ado, snapping it in two with his huge hands, before handing back one half. “Next time I could make you ginger tea, it's a good anti-inflammatory.”

"I don't like tea."

"Ah, I thought you liked it," the alpha replied, surprised. “Since you have so much tea in your apartment…”

“Have you been snooping around my kitchen?”

"Just a little," he replied, a slight blush staining his cheeks. Kenma only blinked, saying nothing. _What kind of person goes through someone else's kitchen?_ “By the way, do you feel better? Y’know, from last night..."

"Oh… yeah, sure.”

Kenma’s hands began to sweat, so he rushed to take the blissful ibuprofen. His tongue was left with a bitter taste that not even the water could remove, although he no longer knew if it was thanks to the pill. The memories of the attack, the cold panic running down his spine at the reliving of the trauma, so many things he hadn't said yet. Had he forgotten about that little unfinished business? No, of course not, how could anyone forget something like that when it chases you even in the most unexpected moments?

The beta swallowed, blinking in a rough attempt to calm himself, to cut off the turbulent current that was his head. The water roared, crashing against the rocks and splashing everywhere, drowning anyone who dared set foot in the river. And that's how Kenma felt, immersed in a chaos that he couldn't get out of, no matter how much he kicked and scratched, trying to stick his head out and catch air. He needed to speak, he knew well, but the words always got stuck mid-way, and he was tired of it.

_He could no longer run away._

"I’m... I'm sorry for what happened," Kenma began, in an almost inaudible murmur. For a moment, he thought Kuroo was going to interrupt him, telling him not to apologize, that everything was fine, but it never happened. The alpha watched him silently, perhaps sensing his intentions. “You didn't do anything wrong, it was my fault for not making clear the... _limits_ , I guess.”

“You sure? I'm not gonna get mad if you tell me I fucked up.”

"No, no," the beta replied, shaking his head. “You were... considerate, much more than anyone would have been.”

Kuroo nodded, and Kenma looked down. He had already taken the first step, _how hard could it be to keep going?_

 _You can do this, you can do this_ , he told himself, over and over, as he took in a deep breath. Kenma slowly expelled the air from his lungs, before inhaling again, repeating this action a few times to calm his nervousness. And he succeeded, in some way, at least enough to keep talking.

"A long time ago, I had an… _accident_ , so to speak" Kenma muttered, feeling the turbulence increase. His thoughts collided with one another, breaking against the rocks, turning the water a metallic hue. The scar on his right arm tingled, and he knew well it wouldn’t be long until it burned. “It's not a big deal, really, you might even find it ridiculous.”

A sort of laugh escaped him, a bitter croak, another consequence of his nervousness. Out of sheer reflex, Kenma hugged himself, pressing his arms against his belly, hunching over, feeling his scar burn. He forced himself to breathe, no matter how much each puff of air burned his lungs. _He couldn't give up, not now, not in front of Kuroo._

"It was after the Dahmer case. I- I accompanied Akaashi to investigate.” The bed creaked, and a warm hand settled on the beta’s back, crawling up to his shoulder, before coming back down. Kuroo had sat next to him, supporting him. “I- I don't remember much, but I know there was an alpha... he was high, or something. He had a… _strange look_.”

Memories sprang up again, hurtling past Kenma’s eyes, making his throat clench. For a moment, he couldn't go on, finding himself trapped by his own body. The palms of his hands were sweating like hell, and at some point his knees had begun to shake. The beta blinked fast, feeling the corners of his eyes sting, while his stomach was clenched with the feeling of vertigo. The current was getting worse and worse, roaring and spitting foam, whipping him over and over again, breaking his bones and making him choke with his own breath.

_Those wide-pupiled eyes, his gasps, a heavy stench that resembled burnt candy flooding every corner of the bar._

_You can do it, you're better than this._

"Kenma…"

"I'm fine," Kenma croaked, startled, feeling Kuroo's worried tone like a dagger to his chest. He fixed his golden eyes somewhere on the wall in front of him, refusing to look the other in the face. _He couldn't break now_. “He... lunged at Akaashi. I didn't know what to do, you see? I only managed to shoot.”

The words scratched his throat, and the smell of blood shed five years ago flooded his nose again. Hot breath hitting his face, the unmistakable sound of his own bones breaking, Akaashi's whimpering in the background, _burnt candy. Had the wound really closed?_

“That pissed him off, and he came after me. His body was so... _so heavy._ ”

A chill ran through Kenma, and he was silent again. Up to that point he could clearly remember the details of the scene, but then everything turned into a chaos of lights and sounds that he could barely connect. He knew he had fired again—at least, the reports indicated that—this time hitting the alpha in the head, but he didn't know much more than that. What did he think at that time? Did he cry out when he saw the blood gush out of his arm, did he pass out from the pain? What did he feel when that monster's brains fell on him? Kenma only remembered waking up in the hospital, believing it had all been a bad dream, at least until he noticed his arm in a cast and that dull ache that flooded every part of his body.

 _"You were lucky,"_ a nurse had told him as soon as he woke up, while injecting sedation into the IV bag that was connected to his good arm. _“If you hadn't protected yourself, that alpha would have ripped your throat out.”_

Kenma remembered nodding his head, only to fall asleep again soon after, surrounded by the fluffy clouds of morphine. Surgery had been required to reposition the ulna and remove the bone chips embedded in the muscle, as well as a suture to close the bite. They had injected him with alpha hormones to accelerate regeneration, a treatment that made him spend almost two weeks stuck to the toilet, puking his guts out, and after that came the ordeal of therapies to regain arm movement.

The psychological consequences would be seen later, in the form of nightmares where Kenma no longer differentiated what was real and what was not.

"... I guess that time was the worst," Kenma murmured, feeling his heart buzz. It was beating fast, uneven, so much so that he felt his chest about to explode. He clung to the scarred forearm, digging his fingers into his black hoodie, trying to maintain what little composure he had left. “There were times when I was mistaken for an omega, but nothing else.”

Kenma blinked slowly, finally turning his face towards Kuroo. The alpha's face was shadowed, his lips so tight they had become a fine line, and his brow furrowed. Anyone would have said he was upset, but Kenma knew it was something else: _Frustration._

“Forgive me for not telling you before.”

"Well, that explains a lot of things." 

The caresses stopped abruptly, leaving a void behind Kenma. The current was calming down, and the water was losing its metallic color. 

"... You don't have to apologize," Kuroo continued, with a much softer tone. There was a moment of silence, where the alpha bit his lip. “Forgive me about last night.”

"You didn't know," Kenma replied, and Kuroo looked up. Gold and amber met, dancing, caressing in a way that no one else understood. The lagoon spread out in front of them again, crystal clear, reflecting the last light of dawn. “It's not the kind of thing you would say straight away to the person you like either.”

“You like me?”

"That's _not_ the point." Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head and relaxing his expression, and Kenma couldn't help but smile. His heart was pounding, and effervescence flooded his chest. “Maybe I made you wait too long.”

"No, you didn't," Kuroo replied. 

The alpha brought one of his huge hands to the beta's face, cradling him. And, perhaps out of reflex, Kenma pressed his cheek against that palm, closing his eyes, enjoying the warmth of it. His scar had stopped burning. 

“That doesn’t matter. It's your boundaries that matter, not mine,” Kuroo continued, raising his free hand to place it on the other cheek. The beta couldn't see anything but Kuroo's face, his amber eyes, that sun-kissed skin, his long black eyelashes, perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A smile spread across the alpha's face, soft, sweet, and his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you for telling me.”

“... It’s nothing.”

They stayed a few moments like that, looking at each other, without saying anything, enjoying the mere company of the other. And Kenma felt happy, in a way that was hard to put into words. It wasn't the same as when he hung out with Akaashi or when he defeated a final boss in a difficult game, or even like when he ate an apple pie; it was something as comforting as it was heartbreaking, breaking through his flesh and gnawing at every bit of his body. Each breath burned his lungs, painful and pleasant, but it was worth every fucking second he could spend looking into those amber eyes, feeling the heat press his cheeks, being able to shed those tears that were now running down his face for no apparent reason.

_Kenma felt alive again, after so many years of heavy lethargy._

“Oi, oi, don't cry!” Kuroo's face changed from peace to panic in a matter of moments, as his thumbs began to clumsily wipe the beta’s face. And Kenma couldn't help but smile, hiding behind his hair. “Don't laugh, I'm actually worried!”

"It's not that," Kenma murmured, choking on the hiccups of crying. He sniffed, raising his eyes again, meeting the alpha’s amber again. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt his chest explode with effervescence, almost like fireworks. “Just... _I'm very happy_.”

A sob escaped Kenma’s mouth. Tears ran free down his cheeks, hot, taking with them the remnants of nervousness and pressure. Kuroo pulled him, laying back on the mattress, one on top of the other. And Kenma let himself go, taking without complaint those strong arms that surrounded him, followed by the aroma of chocolate.

Over and over Kenma could feel the alpha's lips on him, sometimes on his forehead, on his cheeks catching some lonely tear, in his mouth to steal his breath. Kuroo whispered sweet words, caressing the back of the beta’s neck, running one hand up and down his back to hug him again at the end. The heat of other's body, once suffocating, now seemed pleasant, as did the closeness. The last wall between them had fallen, and Kenma couldn't be happier about it.

 _I did it,_ he thought, again and again. _I really did it._

And they stayed like that for a long time, between kisses and cuddles, at least until the sobs settled down, leaving the silence behind. With his cheek resting on Kuroo's chest, Kenma could hear his heavy heartbeat, and the smell of chocolate seemed to have intensified even more. For some reason, it seemed to be stuck to the alpha's clothing, which he verified by turning his face and smelling it directly, an action that was enough to speed up Kuroo's heart.

"O-Oi, what are you doing?"

"You smell different," Kenma muttered. For some reason, the beta felt he remembered that scent from somewhere else, _but where?_

“Oh yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kenma saw Kuroo's face flush, looking away to evade the other's scrutiny. “I’m… I’m taking a hormonal treatment.”

“Hormonal treatment? Why?”

"Well—"

A quick knock on the bedroom door interrupted them, and they didn't even manage to say anything before it opened. It was Akaashi, who had rumpled clothes and messy hair, as if he had just woken up, although his expression was far from drowsy. The omega’s forehead was bathed in sweat, and his face was so pale that his skin looked like paper. His lips had also lost their color, and his expression was one of utter horror.

Before Akaashi said anything, Kenma already knew what was to come, and he could feel his own face go pale.

"Ushijima-san called, _we have to go_." 

* * *

From there on, things went into free fall for Kenma.

After finding his boxers—Kuroo rescued them from under the bed—and putting them on, Kenma had to join the others in the living room. The tension was tangible, and it was reflected in the faces of his companions, a shadow of bad omen. It didn't take long for them to organize themselves to leave, although Kenma wasn't really paying attention. His head was elsewhere, anxiety making his breath difficult and his heart pounding. He moved as commanded, almost as if his body was on automatic pilot.

_And it was no wonder, why did he have to relive that nightmare?_

"Oi, Kenma," Kuroo called. “Would you like to have breakfast at the _Johnny Rockets_ later? Y’know, just you and I.” 

Since the station was only a few minutes from Bokuto's apartment, each couple had to take the car with which they had arrived, so they were again sitting in that blue-light Plymouth. The cabin no longer reeked of chocolate as much as last night, and Kenma could even feel a few metallic notes from its owner's pheromones.

It took him a few moments to answer, long enough to receive a dismayed look from those amber eyes.

"Mm." Kenma blinked a few times, forcing at least a few words out of his mouth. “I guess.”

"We can go elsewhere if you want, I have no problem with that," Kuroo continued, giving him a smile. Kenma looked at him without saying anything, before turning his eyes to the window. Before him passed the buildings and streets of the snowy city. "... I know you're worried, but we really don't know what it’s going to happen."

"If they called us, it was for _something,"_ the beta murmured, closing his eyes. Memories of the incident exploded behind his lids, forcing him to open them again. His hands were shaking, and he could feel cold sweat running down his spine. He took in a deep breath before continuing. “Also, it was Ushijima, it's _obvious_ what it’s going to happen.”

“And Ushijima is...?”

"An alpha." ByKuroo's silence, Kenma knew that answer wasn’t enough. “He is the head of a department, I’m not sure if human trafficking or organized crime.”

“Oho, really?” The alpha murmured, staring down the road. “That's weird.”

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, but said nothing. He leaned his head against the window, with the fantasy that the door lock would fail and his body would fall to the road, being crushed by the wheels of the car. He didn’t want to be there, he would do anything to go back a few minutes to the peace of the room and sleep next to Kuroo as if nothing happened, but it was nothing more than a stupid wish.

_Pathetic._

The trip didn't last more than 15 minutes, and when the car pulled into the parking lots in front of the station, Kenma could feel his stomach churn and bile creeping up his throat. He could barely get off without stumbling, feeling the world spin around him. He was dizzy, and his senses had sharpened enough for the stimuli to overwhelm him. The beta didn't even know how he managed to climb the steps to the door without tripping, or how he walked to his office without fainting in the way. His head was full of noise, similar to the sound a guitar with too much distortion would make, his eardrums popping as his anxiety increased.

_Was that real life, or another fantasy caused by his upset psyche?_

Kenma could barely breathe from the weight on his chest, crushing him, making every breath burn his throat. _Why was even necessary for the homicide department to be present?_ They were detectives, they weren't trained to go hand-to-hand—Kenma didn't even have training other than basic shooting—with alphas, even less against some affected by methamphetamine. It was ridiculous that they were of any use, or were they thinking of using them as cannon fodder? They hadn't been able to advance the serial killer case, or even tie up the dots that the clues left.

And Kenma was perhaps the heaviest liability of all, being a beta who hardly did anything at the office. Kuroo already had most of his tasks covered, all he had to do was focus on the crimes, but it only caused delays, it made all the sense in the world that they wanted to get rid of him, right? Or at least use his shooting skills— Kenma had the best aim in the district —without shitting himself for something useful, because other than that there was nothing. He had no training in police school, he was there just because the damn Dahmer case, and he couldn't even hope for a better salary.

 _He was replaceable_.

Kenma knew well how raids worked, he had heard Iwaizumi tell stories about them thousands of times —he and Ushijima were good friends— and how they used betas and omegas as needed, how many times that ended in horrible tragedies because, of course, alphas didn't tend to seek out other alphas unless it was for business reasons, not to mention that sacrificing a strong specimen would be strategically insane. _But the weak?_ Replaceable, after all they wouldn't live long in a society like that either.

_Being useful was an honor for someone like him, wasn't it?_

"Oi, Kenma." 

A light touch on his head made Kenma wince, pulling away from it as if it burned him. He was standing in front of the office door, and Kuroo was staring at him in dismay from a short distance. The sound of their breaths was the only thing that could be heard down the long hall. _How long had Kuroo been there?_

“Where are you going?”

“ _Uh.”_ The question span through Kenma’s head, dulling the distortion for a few seconds. He blinked, trying to formulate a coherent sentence. “I'm... I'm going to get my stuff.”

“Do you need help with that?” 

Kenma shook his head weakly, trying to turn around and open the door, but his knees buckled. A firm arm caught him around the waist, supporting him and bringing him back to his feet. His heart was in his mouth. 

“C’mon, let me do it for you.”

Kenma saw Kuroo lean over without letting go, holding the doorknob with his huge hand and turning it, pushing the door open with the tips of his fingers. Kozume muttered a terse _"thank you"_ , pulling the alpha's arm away and walking into the office. In another context, Kenma might have mocked the alpha, telling him he couldn't be a gentleman after sucking his cock last night, but he said nothing; he could barely walk without shuffling, and when it was time to get to his desk he just slumped down next to it, ignoring the stabbing pain in his bones.

The beta yanked the bottom drawer open, revealing its messy interior. There he used to put the things he didn’t want to see—were they important or garbage—, and sometimes what brought back bad memories, the latter being what he was looking for. Kenma took out papers and food wrappers that he had forgotten to throw away, the diary where he had written down the things about Kuroo—he made sure to tuck it under everything so Kuroo wouldn’t see it—and left everything on the table, exposing a black grip.

 _His gun_.

“Is it automatic?” Kuroo asked, peeking over the side of the cabinet. He had a can of deodorant in his hand, _Axe Dark Temptation_. “I thought you only had the Taser.”

"9 mm," Kenma replied, not responding to anything the alpha said. He pulled the gun out of the drawer, feeling it heavy against his palm. It fit perfectly, and the beta hated it, _he hated it so much_. “It’s a service pistol.”

“Wasn’t it that you never have training?” 

Kenma nodded, sighing. He closed his fingers around the grip, instinctively placing his index finger on the trigger after checking that the safety was on. He still remembered how easy it was to pull, the sound of the explosion, the bones breaking and the blood splattering the ground. Kenma savored the metal against his tongue. 

“I thought they didn't give anybody guns without passing all the tests,” Kuroo continued.

"I took weapons class," Kenma muttered, leaning his head against the desk. He couldn't take his eyes off the gun, _his gun_ , where he could still see the remains of that alpha's head. The smell of burnt caramel on his nose, mixing with the blood. Kenma wanted to throw up, _he was going to throw up._

“You don’t like it?” 

Kenma looked up, meeting that pair of amber eyes. Kuroo's brow furrowed and his lips pursed to a fine line on his face, emanating concern from every one of his pores. Kenma couldn't help but feel his heart contract. _You can't even hide your shit well, you useless piece of human scum_.

"... Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you,” Kuroo said in a soft voice.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,“ Kenma answered. He made a move to get up, but his legs didn't respond, so he sat down on the floor again. _Useless_. “I just…”

"Yeah, I know," the alpha interrupted, finishing the sentence for him. Kenma sighed, closing his eyes, having the stupid hope the ground would swallow him. He felt a delicate caress on the top of his head, and when he looked up he met Kuroo’s face, who had crouched down to be at his level. “You'll see, everything's gonna be alright.”

“ _Mm_.” Kenma closed his eyes again, enjoying the touch despite wanting to pull away. The alpha's hand moved down his face, cradling his cheek.

"Akaashi mentioned they need us for reinforcement," Kuroo continued, his voice still soft. His usual teasing tone was gone, leaving only velvety words. “Maybe we just have to show up and that’s all.”

"No," Kenma whispered. He sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm the hurricane of emotions that swept through his chest, but he couldn't help but feel a stab of pain. “ _It’s never just that_.”

Kenma pulled away from the warm touch, leaning on the edge of the desk to try to stand up, but only managed to throw away a pile of papers and trash. He lost his balance, being rescued again by Kuroo, who helped him to his feet. Kenma kept his eyes on the tip of his sneaker, his shame swallowed up by the buzzing in his head.

_You can't even stand up without help, you stupid piece of shit._

The world spun around him, and he thought he heard Kuroo calling out to him. His belly contracted and bile filled his mouth. He had to cover it with his hand to keep the vomit from escaping. 

_Why the hell are you still alive? You should have let him kill you, you stupid piece of shit._

“Kenma!”

The beta could not bear the retching anymore. He bent over as the vomit dripped through his fingers, falling with a dry sound on the carpeted floor, a mixture of bile and the remains of what he drank during the night. The trash can appeared before his eyes, being held by Kuroo, who had also gathered his hair with one hand to push it out of the way. With tears running down his cheeks, Kenma pulled his hand away, letting the retching finish emptying his stomach where only acid remained.

His body became weak and, if Kuroo hadn’t caught him, he would have slammed into the ground. Kenma tried to apologize, but only incoherent sounds came from his mouth.

"C’mon, let's go to the bathroom," Kuroo said with hurry.

Kenma let himself be dragged out of the office, down the hall and finally into the bathroom. There the fluorescent lights blinded him for a few seconds, until his eyes adjusted, and he was able to see what was around him, the reflection of his face in the wide mirror. _Disgusting_ , the beta thought, twisting his mouth as Kuroo walked him over to the sinks, turning on the faucet and cleaning his mouth with the stream of cold water. And Kenma left him without protest, too dizzy to even put up any resistance.

After rinsing his mouth a few times and drinking some water, Kenma let the alpha tie his hair into a ponytail and slide his hand against his, intertwining their fingers. The warmth emanating from Kuroo’s palm was comforting.

"You'll see, everything's gonna be alright," Kuroo said, smiling sweetly. Kenma couldn't stop his heart from contracting, _it hurt_. “I’ll be by your side all the time.”

"Don't tell Akaashi."

"... I won't, I promise."

Those last words didn't sound convincing at all, but Kenma didn't have time to say anything, as Kuroo yanked him out of there, leading him to the entrance of the station. And, as if the _Morias_ had agreed to fuck him up, the first thing Kenma’s eyes saw was a tall, broad-shouldered figure with a deep voice, speaking to a rather stressed Akaashi. It was impossible not to recognize who was, even less when he could see Oikawa in the background making nasty faces while Iwaizumi restrained himself from yelling at his stupid partner.

It wasn’t difficult to perceive the tension in the air, contrasting with the warm smell of baked bread that emanated from the newcomer.

"Ushijima-san, is it true that I can’t go?"

"No, the official order is that omegas mustn’t attend," Ushijima said. The alpha's words were harsh, even though his expression was serene. Kenma tried to hide behind Kuroo, but those olive-green eyes fell on him as soon as they saw movement. “Kozume Kenma, we were waiting for you.”

“ _Uh.”_

Kenma didn't curse out loud just to be polite and so as not to put Akaashi in a bad light. As far as he knew, this guy was one of the big shots in the police force, and he could get rid of anyone in a blink of an eye. It could be a lot of things, but he wasn't going to risk lose his job just like that.

“I—”

"We were in the toilette," Kuroo said quickly, drawing the alpha's attention. Ushijima looked at him without changing his Stoic expression one bit.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”

"I went to Special Forces school, and I was an outstanding student during..." Ushijima fished for something in his jacket pocket: a pack of gum. He offered them to Kuroo. “What—?”

"Your mouth stinks."

“ _Huh?”_

Silence. First came Bokuto's shrill laugh, followed by the little-disguised occasional laugh by some of the others present. And Kenma was no exception, having to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Kuroo's face was redder than ever, and he couldn't even answer Ushijima: the rooster head alpha just took the gum and lowered his head, stepping to one side to avoid saying a word again.

Although, as expected, the tension didn’t take long to thicken the atmosphere again, even more so when Ushijima gave the instructions: they had to go to the Central, where the details of the operation would be finalized. For the latter thing, they specifically needed the presence of Kenma, so there was no possibility of avoiding attending. And Kenma didn't even have the strength to protest, feeling the gravity increase around him and the ground tugging at his body.

The only ones who would not go would be Akaashi —because of his omega status— and Oikawa, who explicitly said that he would rather eat shit than spend time with Ushijima, which is why he received a scolding from Iwaizumi. Despite this, Oikawa was not forced to go, and within minutes they were all on the patrol that would take them to their destination.

"You will be loaned the necessary equipment at the Central," Ushijima explained after starting the engine. He was at the wheel, Iwaizumi as co-pilot and the other three in the second row of seats. Kenma and Bokuto went to the windows, Kuroo to the center. “The other details of the operation will be provided to you in due time.”

This was the last thing the beta managed to pick up from the conversation, the rest being distant and indecipherable whispers. The tiredness, the stress of reliving sensations that he wouldn’t wish on even his worst enemy was overwhelming, enough to drain what little energy reserves he had. He hadn't even eaten breakfast, so it wasn't long before he fell asleep against Kuroo's shoulder, who had the detail of accommodating himself in such a way that Kenma could rest peacefully.

The beta dreamed of nothing but darkness, and as fast as he had fallen asleep he woke up, one hand shaking him gently.

"Kenma, we're here."

Kuroo's voice was the one that brought Kenma out of the stupor, returning him to the shitty reality they were living. Just by opening his eyes and seeing the group of buildings that made up the Central, he felt his pulse quicken, followed by cold sweat at the inevitable. As he stepped out of the car, his knees became a jelly-like mass with which he barely kept his balance. His stomach churned and the nausea returned stronger than before, but the beta had nothing left to throw up.

Like a ghost, Kenma shuffled up the wide front steps, feeling each step like a stab to the chest and his scar on fire. The others were chatting around him, but the words became high-pitched buzzes, hitting his head over and over again. The winter sunlight was, for a moment, too bright, and when entering the building the feeling was not improved by the addition of fluorescent tubes. Out of reflex Kenma looked directly at one, feeling some pleasure at the pain in his eyes.

 _Will I be lucky this time?_ He thought, as someone tugged on his arm. He had zoned out, standing in the middle of the hive. The surrounding buzzes persisted, each having its own tone and volume. _It’s not like it really matters, does it?_

Kenma ended up tucked into a break room, sitting on a plastic-textured sofa with his knees pressed to his chest, staring at a dead spot on the carpeted floor. He hadn't brought his PSP, but it wasn’t like he has the strength to even pull out his phone either. His thoughts were a meaningless mess, and the hums surrounding him deafened him. He only wanted to make himself small, to disappear into the void like a snake that eats its own tail.

"Hey, puddin’ head."

Leather boots came into Kenma’s view, along by a heavily accented voice. Kuroo wasn't around —he said something from going to the cafeteria— and there was no sign of Bokuto or Iwaizumi, so the beta just looked up. He was met by a guy with blond hair and dark eyes, who gave off a scent similar to mint. His gaze was lazy, and the smile that adorned his face made him think of the bee from _Bee Movie_.

From his height and muscular build it was easy to infer that he was an alpha, reason enough for Kenma to cringe under his black hoodie. He was already stressed and at that moment his adrenaline levels spiked until he heard his own pulse pounding against his eardrums. He held his breath, _where was that rooster-head idiot when he needed him?_

“Whatcha doin’ here? Do ya belong to any department?” The alpha said, staring at him. Kenma clenched his jaw, calculating how far the exit was. He remembered that the door to the living room was heavy, maybe escaping would not be a good idea. “Did the cat eat yer tongue or what?”

"Atsumu, don't bother him."

A softer voice burst onto the scene, followed by the distinctive sound of papers rubbing against each other. The stranger in front of him snorted, turning to look at whoever had spoken. It was a man with gray hair and black tips, he was short and small compared to the blond alpha.

It didn't take long for Kenma to recognize him as Kita Shinsuke, the head of the narcotics department. Kenma had seen him a couple of times at Station 512, always asking about Akaashi, although he never spoke a word to him. Kita was known within the police for having survived a brutal torture during an infiltration in a local mafia group, where an alpha tore the omega glands from his neck and nape with his teeth, leaving sequels for life. Kenma knew the latter from Akaashi, who had explained more or less what happened in those cases: metabolic disorder, hormone levels so low that supplements were needed, disappearing of most emotions, among other horrible consequences. It was, perhaps, one of the few cases of that style that managed to survive for years, so there was a general respect for Kita’s figure.

The incident with the bite on Kenma’s arm was shit compared to that.

"Kita-san, we were just talking," Atsumu replied softly. From the way he addressed the other, Kenma guessed the alpha was a subordinate, probably the typical newbie who believed himself superior to the rest. _Maybe Kuro knows him_ , Kenma thought. “Can't I make new friends?”

"Intimidation isn’t the best way to do it," the omega replied calmly. He was sitting across the room, in the center of a black sofa just like Kenma was, with a magazine in his little hands. His brown gaze was expressionless, as was the rest of his face. “You should be careful with that, especially when addressin’ the person who solved the Dahmer case.”

“ _Hah?”_ Atsumu replied, making the sound longer than necessary. He turned to the beta again, giving him a face that swarmed between disbelief and mockery. Kenma really wanted to erase that horrible smirk with his fist. “This tadpole, really? C’mon, ya can barely look at me without shittin’ yerself.”

“ _Who are you calling tadpole?”_

Kuroo was standing at the door, holding it with one hand and with the other holding a plastic bag, which had a picture of a coffee cup stamped on it. His chin was slightly down, giving his gaze the intensity that only a predator would have, not to mention the frown and the mouth turned into a fine line. It was hard to tell if he was angry or just annoyed, but Atsumu didn't hesitate to answer it with the same intensity: the alpha drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest as if he wanted to look bigger.

Between alphas, confrontations were common, even more so when omegas were involved. At least one a week was always mentioned on the local newscasts, increasing during warmer or breeding seasons. Most of the time they ended in minor injuries or a couple of broken bones, but they could also lead to torn limbs or bloody murders, even involving third parties. It wasn’t uncommon to hear that omega’s, trying to separate their alpha’s from another,ended up dead on the spot or on the way to the hospital, or sometimes with irreversible physical consequences.

"Wow, the whole circus’ here now," Atsumu said, smirking. The air in the room grew thick, laden with that minty scent that the alpha had but intensified to the tenth power. Kenma felt his lungs burn, breathing was hell.

"I could say the same," Kuroo replied, his voice hoarse. He adjusted his shoulders, marking the muscles under his white T-shirt as he approached the other. He walked slowly, like a hunter stalking his prey, and the beta wanted like never before to kick him in the balls.

“What ’bout ya? Are ya his pet or somethin’?” Atsumu continued. The alpha didn't move, not even when the other one was less than a step ahead. The air grew even thicker, and the temperature rose. “Didn't know we were allowed to have pets now.”

"Atsumu, that's enough," Kita was heard in the background, but this didn't stop them.

"They didn't accept criminals either, but here you are, aren’t you?" A sharp smirk spread across Kuroo's face, while the other alpha’s expression seemed to harden. Kenma had them in front of him, inches from his feet, and the intensity with which they looked at each other was overwhelming. His body wasn't responding. “Did your mother help you bleach it?”

"Ya’ve no right to say nothin’ ’bout hair with that rooster head."

“Seriously? Wow,” Kuroo said, his smirk sharpening. He cocked his head, pointing at Kita. “At least I don't bother others to impress, do you want _their_ attention that much? _Pathetic_.”

In a matter of a blink, Atsumu had Kuroo by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to bring their faces closer together. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring and losing that lazy expression that characterized him, while the other alpha kept smirking derisively.

For a moment, Kenma only managed to close his eyes, waiting to hear the first strike, but there was silence instead. The mint disappeared, being overshadowed by a sake-like scent, so ethyl that it irritated his throat, and the atmosphere became even heavier than before. If breathing was already difficult, now it was hell, and the beta by sheer willpower did not begin to cough.

"I said it was _enough_." It was Kita who broke the silence, with that calm tone he always had. Kenma opened his eyes, finding himself with a scene as strange as it was absurd: the omega had put a hand on Atsumu's arm, pulling it, so he would let Kuroo down.

“But—!”

"I didn't ask your opinion." 

Despite the calm with which Kita spoke, the omega's words were still intimidating, even more intimidating than they would have been if he shouted them. His brown eyes, like those of a dead fish, didn’t reflect anything in particular, but still they gave Kenma a chill, _was this the most respected omega of the police?_

“C’mon, Aran and Rintarō must be waitin’ for us.”

Silence. Atsumu took a few seconds to react, releasing Kuroo after muttering a terse apology, lowering his head. A small smile appeared on Kita's face, who patted his partner on the shoulder, before taking him by the arm, leaving the restroom but not before saying goodbye with a small bow.

As soon as the door closed behind those two, Kenma was able to breathe again.

"You're an asshole," Kenma spat, staring at Kuroo with rage just under his skin. If glances burned, only a soot stain would be left of the alpha on the carpet. “What do you think of getting into a fight with a stranger? Are you stupid or something?”

“I didn't do anything, _he_ _started!_ ”

"I don't give a fuck who started it," the beta bellowed. “Do you know what they do to alphas when they lose control? They shoot them.”

Kenma lowered his feet from the chair, sitting up straight. A few strands of hair fell over his face, but he didn't even bother to remove them. The urge to stand up and beat up that rooster head was not lacking. 

“And do you know who will have to answer for your stupid things? Akaashi, so you better not give any more trouble, you asshole.”

“But—!”

Kenma gave Kuroo a freezing look, before turning his face away. He'd rather a thousand times to see the ugly faded curtains than Kuroo's face, let alone hear his excuses. All alphas were the same, a bunch of muscles with soaring ego and the certainty that they were superior just because they were born like that, why did he even have hope? In his fucking life he'd met an alpha who was different, no matter where he looked: all alphas were sons of bitches.

Kenma heard a heavy sigh followed by a few steps, which ended up in feeling how a body sat next to him. He tried to get away, but heavy arms surrounded him, and Kuroo's head ended up tucked into the curve of his neck. Rejection ran through the beta like an electric current, tensing his muscles and causing him to snort as he tried to push the other away.

“Let me go.”

“Kenma, I'm sorry!” Kuroo said, lengthening the words, in a tone similar to that of a scolded child. It was as pathetic as it was annoying. “I'll make it up to you, I'll do whatever you want!”

_“Uh-huh.”_

“Please!” The arms around Kenma strangled him, and for a moment he thought his eyes would pop out of its sockets. “I'm really sorry, I promise it won't happen again!”

“Dammit, let me go!”

They were in that tug of war for a while, until Kenma gave up from exhaustion. He really wasn't in the mood to stand excessive contact, not even that of Kuroo's massive arms. He just wanted to lie down, close his eyes and sleep, let that shitty day end at once and forget that his past was coming back to keep on fucking him.

 _A stupid fantasy for someone pathetic_ , the voice whispered in the back of his head, as Kuroo pulled a disposable dish from the bag that he brought. There were chunks of something white inside. _Aren’t you tired of it? You know well that the world doesn't work like that, I no longer know what you are waiting for to realize it._

"... A couple of people gave me weird looks, but it doesn't matter," Kuroo said. Apparently the alpha had been talking for a while, but with Kenma being so deep in his circle of torture and self-pity, he had completely ignored him. “Oi, are you feeling okay? If it's because of what happened before, I can—”

"No" Kenma interrupted him, without even thinking twice. There was a moment of silence, where the beta organized his thoughts and forced the words out of his throat. "... I've had worse days."

"Well," Kuroo continued. Apparently he had bought the lie. “As I was saying, I got you an apple. I took care of peeling and chopping it for you.”

Kuroo offered him the plastic dish, where the apple chunks moved from side to side as he shook it. By mere reflex, Kenma raised his hands, grasping it, feeling it cold against his skin. 

“You need to restore your glucose levels if you don't want to pass out.”

"... Thank you," Kenma whispered, lowering his head. More strands fell over his face as he opened the plastic cap. He picked up a piece of apple and watched it silently, not daring to put it in his mouth.

"I ran into Iwaizumi and Ushijima on the way to the cafeteria, they seem to be friends." 

Kenma nodded by reflex, he really wasn't paying attention. The fruit was peeled and cut almost perfectly, _how much time had he invested in that?_

“I spoke to them, and convinced them to have Iwaizumi take your place at the meeting.”

“ _Huh?”_ Kenma blinked, trying to take in what the alpha said. His head was in chaos, and within the whirlwind of things he lost the thread of the conversation as he would with his left socks. _You really are pathetic_. “... You're kidding me.”

"No," Kuroo replied, shrugging. He reached into the bag, pulling out what looked like a regular sandwich. It came wrapped in plastic, and when he opened it, an unmistakable aroma of tuna mixed with mayonnaise came out. “Ushiwaka is quite nice actually, he had no problem making the switch.”

“ _Ushiwaka...?”_ Kenma murmured, and the other nodded in response. He shook his head, trying with all his might to ignore the strange nickname. “You didn't have to…”

“Of course I had to!“ Kuroo replied, taking a bite of the tuna sandwich. “I’m your—”

“Swallow before you speak, you pig.”

"... I'm your partner, I must look out for you always having the best working conditions, whatever the situation is," the alpha clarified, after obeying the order. He was silent for a few moments, his amber gaze fixed where the loaves met the filling. Kenma glanced at him, slowly returning the apple to the taper. _Was he... ashamed?_ “And, well, y’know, I... I couldn't just sit around after what we talked about.”

"I didn't tell you to pity me, for the record."

"I never said I was pitying you," Kuroo snorted. Although there was some mockery in his tone, a shadow crossed the alpha's gaze for a moment, before disappearing and returning to his usual expression. “It’s just... I can't help but worry about you.”

"It's not like I'm going to die from a stupid meeting, y’know?"

“Yeah, I know.”

Kuroo sighed, lowering his sandwich and setting it aside, on the same plastic wrap that wrapped it earlier. Kenma silently watched every move he made, and was able to meet his eyes when he turned his body, both of them facing each other. The amber and gold danced without saying a word, while the alpha's hand rose and went to the other's head, caressing where his dark hair grew. Kuroo's fingers moved toward the beta's ponytail, untying it with a deft and careful movement, letting the cascades of dark hair run free. Kuroo nibbled the inside of his mouth, sliding his palm up to the beta's cheek, inserting his fingers into the jungle behind his ear and leaving his thumb against the skin, tentatively caressing him with the fingertip.

Kenma couldn't help but hold his breath during the descent, feeling his heart race against his ribs. The delicacy of the caresses was overwhelming, and even more so when Kuroo didn’t take his eyes off him at any time. A small part of him wanted to pull away, bring up some subject that didn't revolve around him, but he couldn't. The warmth of someone else's palm, the pressure on his cheek, the slow stroking of Kuroo’s thumb, that beautiful amber ring that encircled his dilated pupils... It felt too good, and Kenma didn't have the strength to end it. He pressed his face against Kuroo's hand, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.

He really wanted that moment to be eternal.

* * *

The rest of the day went on as if nothing, at least until _that_ fateful call.

It was shortly after Kenma took a shower and put on the uniform that Iwaizumi had got for him. With the weight of the meeting off his shoulders, he was able to eat the apple chunks without throwing up, drink water, and even go with the others and whisper about other police departments and how cool the homicide department was in comparison. And it wasn't that he had forgotten about the raid — he felt a constant itch across his scar to remember it — or anything like that, but it took a back seat for moments long enough to make him feel a little better.

 _You'll see, everything's gonna be alright_ _._

Kuroo's words echoed in Kenma’s head, when he got into the truck or when he heard the murmurs of the radio. Over and over, repeating themselves in a loop, as the last evening lights passed before his golden eyes through the window. From nausea to emptiness, the hole in his stomach was getting bigger, and Kenma couldn't think of anything else than his scar, which burned with memories. _Would he get out alive this time?_ It wasn't that he really cared, his life was miserable, and he was much of a shit with legs, but the paperwork he would leave Akaashi with was perhaps too much, not counting the feelings of guilt.

_Because, of course, even dying was not easy in his position._

“What are you thinking about?” Kuroo asked, sitting next to him. The path was not too long, but the cabin had already become a bit suffocating from the heat given off by the multiple bodies crammed within it. At the moment, the smell of chocolate was not _exactly_ pleasant.

"About death," Kenma replied dryly. From the silence that followed, he could guess the alpha's expression without looking at him, and also what he would say next. " _‘Don't say that!_ _You'll see, everything's gonna be alright_ _._ ’"

"Oho, that was _my_ line." Kenma heard Kuroo smile, and he couldn't help but do the same. “I guess you feel better now.”

"Well, I don't want to vomit anymore," the beta clarified, turning his face. Kuroo was staring at him, his head bowed and his bangs covering half his face. He was just like _Wybie Lovat_. “I guess that's a good signal.”

"You don't have to overexert yourself, we'll probably just be there for a bit and do nothing." A lie, a very bad one. It was obvious they weren't called to stand and watch. Kenma had seen enough raids to know how they ended. “And, well, you have a whole team behind you.”

“Sure.”

There was a moment of silence, long enough for the atmosphere between them to become strange. Kuroo had that typical expression of wanting to say something, and Kenma was sure it would be something stupid or sappy. 

“Kuro, I—”

"I'll protect you." _Stupid and sappy, what a surprise_. “I-I don't mean you can't take care of yourself or anything! Just... well, y’know.” 

Kuroo stopped, perhaps looking for the right words, “I want you to stay calm, that's all.”

“I am.”

"Oh, so throwing up and nearly passing out is normal,"Kuroo teased. Kenma frowned, wrinkling his nose. That was a low blow, even for that asshole. “You know I'm right.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Kenma turned his eyes to the window, outlining the buildings with his gaze. The void grew, engulfing what would be a horrible emotional storm were it not for its existence, repressing and sweeping away everything. It was strange to be well and at the same time not to be, knowing that at any moment things would get out of control and they would screw everything up at the worst possible moment. It was always like that, the mind could be a mean traitor, especially when there was trauma involved.

 _Trauma?,_ repeated a voice in Kenma’s head, with a smile that he could see before him, floating in nothingness. _You don't have a trauma, you're just a piece of shit who can't deal with his fucking problems._

“Kenma?” A light touch on his shoulder distracted Kenma, causing him to turn his head again and meet that amber gaze. Kuroo looked worried. “I... I was being serious with what I said, okay?” The alpha stopped, chewing on his lip. “... I really care a lot about you, and it hurts me to see you like this.”

"Yes, it hurts to be me too, as you can imagine," Kenma replied with a marked sarcastic tone. The emptiness in his stomach twisted, letting out some guilt that soon hit him in the face. _You ungrateful piece of shit._ “Look, I don't feel good being here. I'd rather have to do mountains of paperwork than this a thousand times, so the less we talk... the better.”

Kenma sighed, turning to the window. The sky had turned a dark blue that made him think of sapphires. “I just... _I just want to go home_.”

"I know," Kuroo muttered. Kenma could feel the alpha's fingers at the nape of his neck, curling around the strands that escaped from his ponytail, caressing the exposed skin. A chill ran down his spine, making his toes tingle. "Do you remember what we were talking about in Bokuto's bedroom this morning?"

“Should I?”

"About the hormonal treatment and all that." Kenma turned his head slightly, a silent ‘I'm listening’. “I started a few weeks ago, that's why my smell changed.”

"Yes, I saw the _Axe Dark Temptation_ in the office."

“Well, what do you think?”

"If someone asks, I don't know you and I've never seen you in my life."

“Kenma!” Kuroo grumbled, pressing his massive body onto the beta's. The heat pouring off him hadn't diminished even a single bit, despite the multiple layers of clothing and the bulletproof vest that he wore. “C’mon! It doesn't smell _that_ bad!”

"You stink like a high school classroom after PE."

"No," Kuroo replied, pausing for a few seconds to smell himself. _Disgusting._ “Well yeah, but it's not that bad either.”

“Do you find it attractive to remember high school every time the person you like approaches you? ‘Cause I don’t think so.”

“ _Oho, you like me?_ ”

"That was _clearly_ not the point." Kenma turned his head, meeting the alpha's face squarely. They were close, _too_ close. “Also, why the hell did you choose that body spray? Isn't there like... 20 varieties?”

"11 fragrances and 6 antiperspirants, actually," the alpha answered, in the same tone he used when talking about jellyfish.

“Answer the question.”

"Well, it's silly..." A nervous laugh escaped Kuroo, as he looked away. His cheeks had turned a pretty pink. “Well, _you like chocolate_ , right?”

“Yes, and?” Kenma replied. It took him a couple of seconds to understand. “Oh, _oh_.”

"Silly, right?"

"Very silly, the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time," Kenma said, feeling the cringe inside his veins. “And what were the other options? _Apple pie?_ ”

Kuroo's silence was enough to answer Kenma’s question, making his face turn in his direction again: red was creeping up the alpha’s neck, covering his entire stupid face and reaching his ears. By now, the laughter became unstoppable for Kenma, who had to cover his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Kuroo's complaints were not long in coming, spit out between nervous stutters and curses thrown into the air, until he ended up giving in and laughing alongside the other.

And this conversation was enough to release the tension a bit, but it did nothing with the emptiness in Kenma’s gut. The bad omen and the shadow of the memories continued over his head, growing more and more, as they approached their destination, the air turning a dense mass that scraped his throat and pressed his lungs.

The first thing Kenma noticed when they arrived was the number of patrol cars outside, surrounding what was supposed to be the conflict zone: a building abandoned more than 5 years ago, with that kind of look that makes you want to go away. The paint —white a long time ago— was streaked with tears of coppery rust, the same one that covered what had once been fire escapes, with the vast majority of windows broken or covered by moldy wooden planks. The dried skeleton of a vine clung to one side of the structure, seasoning the general decrepitude of the scene.

The second was the smell of _blood_.

“Move, move!”

It appeared when Ushijima was followed behind some patrol cars, where a trail of blood could be distinguished on the cracked asphalt. They had turned on some spotlights to illuminate the area, revealing a spectacle that looked like something out of an action movie: on the ground and half covered by a blue blanket was Atsumu's body, and on it was Kita, pressing a piece of cloth against his throat. The alpha had traces of dried blood on his lips, and from how the other tried to mitigate the bleeding it was easy to tell what had happened.

That, and the tube sticking out the side, helping him keep breathing.

"We were able to clean up to the third floor," Kita explained, with his usual deadly calm. Despite not looking disturbed, the omega’s sudden movements and muscular tension gave him away. Those kinds of situations used to be quite common in raids, especially when both sides were armed, but they were still shocking. Blood was mixed with mint and liquor. “They are armed with pistols, a couple of revolvers, they don't seem to be aware of—”

“What happened to him?” Kuroo's voice rose above the police sirens, interrupting the omega. For a moment, Kenma felt his heart stop, _had that asshole really had the audacity to interrupt a superior?_

“Huh? Oh, he suffered a gunshot wound to the trachea,” Kita replied, blinking. Everyone present was silent. “Why?”

"You're pushing too hard," Kuroo explained, crouching next to the confused omega. He put his huge hands over the other, showing Kita the correct way to apply pressure, relaxing his shoulders and taking his weight off Atsumu. “See? This way you can stop the bleeding, and he can breathe more easily.”

“... Thank you.”

Kuroo muttered a ‘it's nothing’ before standing up and going back to his place, between Bokuto and Kenma. There was a moment of silence, where Kita seemed to rearrange his thoughts before speaking again. 

“Well, as I was saying, they don't seem to be aware of the operation, which is a bonus.”

“Is there anyone left inside?” Ushijima asked, nodding at the building, which became increasingly creepy as the sun disappeared.

"We believe there is a last guard on the fourth floor," the omega continued. “According to insiders, there should be their product.”

Silence again, this time longer and heavier, "... We aren’t sure what kind of person is up there, none of the men who came up have returned.”

"Thanks for the information, Kita," Ushijima concluded, bowing his head a little, which was immediately returned. And, as if this gesture had ended the conversation, he turned to the present. “Follow me, I'll show you your equipment.”

They were directed to the back of a truck, where there was a guy—another alpha—with fox eyes and a strong smell of nuts, who was looking at them without much interest. The alpha held his phone with one hand, while the other rested limp on one side of his body, covered by a bloody bandage; the ring finger and the little finger were missing.

He looked up when he heard them arrive, revealing eyes that swarmed between gray and yellow, as expressionless as their owner.

"Suna, where is Sakusa?" Ushijima asked.

"Over there," Suna replied. Kenma couldn't help but see something of Kita in that alpha, was it a requirement to be dead inside to participate? “He said something about organizing the next... Uh, wave?”

"Okay, thanks for the information." The alpha turned to look at the others, not changing his stoic expression a single bit. “You will find everything you need in the van. You have 15 minutes to get ready, any delay will go directly to your life record.”

No one said anything, and they began to move as soon as Ushiwaka left. Kenma stayed in place, staring at the tips of his shoes, not really knowing what to do. The emptiness in his stomach grew more and more, a black mass that spread in his gut, devouring everything in its path. He had become aware of his own breath, every inhale and exhale, should he even be thinking to keep doing it?

 _It's not like you didn't know this would happen_ , the voice whispered in the back of Kenma’s head, an urge for him to move. He walked to the truck, with the whispers of a conversation he did not belong to around him, floating. _What's the use of putting you like this? Your prayers fix nothing._

" _I'm not praying..._ "

"Did you say something, Kenma?" Kuroo's hand on his shoulder made the beta jump. Apparently he had said that out loud.

"N-No…" 

Embarrassment crept up his neck, and he was grateful that the poor lighting hid his blush. Kenma made his mind work at full speed, looking for a way to divert a conversation that he did not even want to start. _You're a mess_. 

“What about you? You dare to speak up after interrupting a superior? I'm surprised you didn't get beat up right there.”

“And why would they beat me, uh?” Kuroo replied, surprised. He had taken an automatic pistol from one of the many boxes in the truck, and held it as if it were anything but a pistol. “That bleach hair asshole was choking, after all.”

"You could have waited."

"Well, yeah, but now they'd have a corpse instead of a bleached hair asshole," Kuroo said, shrugging. He hooked the gun holster to his belt, grabbing a couple of clips that went straight into his pocket. “Hey, don't you think that omega was weird? He smelled like liquor and, well, if he didn't speak he could pass for a mannequin.”

“Kita? He is like that.” Silence. Kuroo was staring at him with his small eyebrows raised, waiting for a better explanation. “His omega glands were ripped out during torture, that's why he's the way he is.”

“Are you messing with me or...?”

"No, it's true." The alpha's face was a poem, and Kozume was soon overcome with discomfort. “You didn’t know? The story is quite famous between divisions.”

"No, I didn't know," Kuroo murmured. Silence again, and they both looked at each other without saying anything. Kuroo's eyes darted from side to side, as if searching for something, even letting out a sudden ‘ah’. He reached a hand down the side of his bulletproof vest, pulling something out. _It was Kenma's gun_. “You left this at the office, I guess you'll need it.”

“ _Uhm_.” 

The beta picked up the gun, feeling heavy against his palm. The void twisted, crushing his lungs, taking his breath away. _It's not like you didn't know this would happen._

“Could you help me with something?” Kuroo asked, clearing his throat to get his attention. Kenma looked up, finding the other holding a gas mask before him. “I don't think I can put it by myself.”

"Oh yeah, okay," he murmured, tucking the pistol into the side of his bulletproof vest.

Kuroo handed him the mask, and Kenma motioned for him to turn around. The alpha obeyed immediately, turning his back to him and crouching down, thus keeping his head at the indicated height so that the beta could work.

Those masks —similar to those one would see in radioactive accident movies— had to be used by regulation in any major operation, especially when alphas were involved. These had special filters for pheromones, thus preventing the user from inhaling them and their state being altered. They were manufactured mainly to be used by alphas, since they were the most aggressive and dangerous when it came to losing control. There were also masks for omegas, although they were not so common due to the prohibition of their participation in most operations.

Kenma, being beta, didn't need anything. A small advantage among the whole pile of shit.

“Man, we look like Chernobyl!” Bokuto yelled excitedly. His yellow eyes flashed behind the glasses of his own mask, looking more like an owl's than ever. Kuroo chuckled, but didn't move from his place.

"You mean ' _like the Chernobyl people_ ,'" Kuroo replied, his voice slightly deafened by the filter.

Kenma was quick to check that the strap buckles were tight, before patting the alpha on the shoulder indicating he was ready. He let out a soft ‘thank you’ before rising back to his feet and straightening to his full height. Seen from below, it was like seeing a monster out of some childhood nightmare, with the light from the patrols creating angular shadows and making it much larger than it really was. Spiky hair turned into a crest of thorns, and amber eyes looking like the eyes of a lurking predator.

And, perhaps, Kenma stared too long, making pointless comparisons to distract himself from the impending doom, long enough for Kuroo to notice. Before the beta could even realize it, he had one of those huge hands he used to fantasize about on his mind, petting his hair.

"Everything will be fine, Kenma," Kuroo said, staring at him.

"... You say it like you're so sure about it," he murmured in response. Kenma wanted to move away, but the delicate caresses and the heat of the alpha's skin made his body betray him, and he didn’t move a single bit of the place. _He really wanted to stay there forever._

“I am.”

"Sure, like you can control destiny."

"Well, perhaps I can't do that," Kuroo replied. He pulled his hand away, not before giving Kenma a brief caress on the cheek with his knuckles, "but that doesn't mean that we can’t take care of each other, right?"

A sweet smile spread across Kuroo's face, and Kenma couldn't help but nod, feeling his heart pound. He would have liked to smile back, give even the smallest gesture of affection, but the black hole in his stomach was greater. So the conversation ended there, in a silence filled with Bokuto's chattering about how annoying it was to breathe with the mask but how much he wished Akaashi were there to see them.

 _Akaashi_ , Kenma repeated to himself, as he walked with the group to where they were supposed to go to start the operation. _What would Akaashi say at a time like this?_

During the years they had known each other, the omega always knew the right words to calm him down, no matter what situation they were in. He never failed to bring his feet back on the ground.

_What would Akaashi say at a time like this?_

"We will divide into groups of 4 to move, and we must inspect each plant," Ushijima ordered, as soon as they were gathered. Except for Kenma, everyone present was alpha. “We don't know what we're up against, so please refrain from shooting if you don't have to. There may be flammable material, so you need to be careful.” 

Ushijima paused, sighing. He glanced at the faces around him, one by one, before continuing. “I hope to see you all back, now move on!”

They all blurted out the typical ‘yes sir!’ that you would like to believe only happens in movies, before heading towards the entrance of the abandoned building. Kenma ran between Bokuto and Kuroo, using their bodies as an attempted human shield. His heart was beating faster and faster, and he could feel his own blood humming against his eardrums. He held the pistol with both hands, pointing the barrel at the ground and watching for any slightest hostile movement.

The first floor of the building was littered with debris, blue barrels and boxes, as well as some bodies left behind after the first police wave. The smell of death and blood permeated the air, accompanied by the unpleasant mixture of pheromones from nervous alphas. Kenma had a queasy stomach, _why the hell didn't those assholes wear patches at moments like this?_ They couldn't smell each other, but that didn't mean they were spreading their stench everywhere. He wasn't throwing up in a corner only thanks to his willpower.

“First floor clear!”

The second floor was more of the same, except for a couple of filing cabinets with open drawers and papers lying around, but it was still a dump. Kenma had to step aside to avoid tripping over a couple of corpses, feeling Kuroo's eyes on him at all times. He wanted to tell him to mind his own business and worry about the deployment, but he could only burn him with his gaze. Any misstep — this included noise — could ruin the operation and lead to preventable deaths. That, plus a scolding and reprimand, two things he preferred to avoid at all costs.

“Second floor clear!”

The stairs were starting to get gasps out of Kenma, but he was holding them. He wasn't going to give the alpha teasing material, he'd rather choke before that.

“Third floor clear!”

Reaching the fourth floor, the smell of burned caramel filled Kenma’s nose, turning his stomach. Memories filled his head and blocked him for a moment, causing him to bent over, retching. The scar on his forearm was on fire, he could hear again the creaking of his bones breaking, the sound of his own blood spilling on the ground, Akaashi's whimpering in the background with his clothes half ripped.

_Stop, please stop, stop, stop._

"Kenma." A hand came to rest on his back; it was Kuroo. Those eyes flashed behind the mask's lenses, concerned in a way he'd never seen before. “ _You can do it, let's go.”_

Gentle slaps, strokes Kenma could feel through the bulletproof vest. He swallowed the mixture of bile and saliva in his mouth, forcing himself to continue walking alongside the platoon, concentrating on the different details of the place to keep himself distracted.

Unlike the other plants, this one seemed to be much more tidy, and was made up of more than one environment. The staircase led them to a wide rectangle, which connected to another room through wide open double doors. From there came the smell of burnt caramel, mingling with the metallic of blood and something that reminded Kenma of a gutted corpse. The intestines had a particular scent, even more so when their contents were spilled.

At least they could already sense what had happened to the men who didn’t return.

"There's not enough room for all of us to go in, someone will have to go first," Ushijima whispered, after gathering everyone in a corner. The sight of so many gas-masked alphas was terrifying, and Kenma couldn't help but shrink. “The rest would support, but I can't assure you anything. If there is flammable material, we won’t be able to shoot, nor if the target is in constant movement. They may be under the effects of the stimulant.”

"Someone could come in and immobilize them," Iwaizumi suggested, who was between Bokuto and Kuroo. “As long as they’re still for a moment, I can aim and shoot at the head with my _Remington_.”

"It would be a suicide mission," muttered a guy with two moles over his right eye, which Kozume remembered seeing with Ushijima before. His smell was quite peculiar, akin to hospital disinfectant. “The masks limit vision and breathing, whoever enters would be an easy target.”

“May I go?” Kuroo's voice rose, freezing Kenma's blood. He could feel his own pulse against his temples and anxiety creeping up his throat, _was that idiot really offering himself to die? Had he lost his mind?_ “I have good reflexes, I can take some punches.”

“Are you sure? We can see other options before.”

"No, really, I want to—" 

"I will."

Those words escaped Kenma's mouth automatically, as if they were meant to come out. The silence that followed was sepulchral, and the beta could feel the weight of some seven looks on him, judging him, laughing at his stupid attempt to be brave. _What else was it, after all?_ He could barely stand without giving in to the ghosts of the past, and by sheer luck he hadn't vomited again. It was crazy to think that he could walk through those doors and into a practically dark room, guarded by an alpha who didn’t know his strength, abilities or even if he had a weapon on him.

 _You're a useless piece of shit, you'll only get killed_.

"I’m-I'm not wearing a mask, so I can move better." Every word felt like his guts were being ripped open. His heart was beating fast, like the fluttering of a hummingbird, all the attention was on him. _What the hell are you doing? You stupid piece of shit, they're going to kill you._ “I'm a good shooter, if I get close enough I can neutralize the target.”

“That's true.” Ushijima replied. _They're going to kill you, they're going to kill you, you stupid useless piece of shit._ “But can you handle it?”

“Yes, of course.” Kenma glanced at Kuroo, and could see the panic in his eyes. _You see? He doesn't believe in you either, they're going to kill you and you'll be nothing more than a nuisance_. “It's also not like the risk is less with someone else.”

"Hm." The olive-eyed alpha thought about it for a few seconds, before nodding. The temperature of the place had plummeted, or so the beta felt. _Useless piece of shit_. “All right, you'll go ahead, Kozume Kenma.”

Ushijima kept giving a few more instructions, but Kenma wasn't paying attention anymore. His head floated away, leaving behind that ruined building and the void that engulfed his entrails, entering a state that he did not know whether to define as peace. His mind was blank and his body moved on its own, completely ignoring the looks Kuroo was giving him or his insistent touches on his arm. Kenma just waited for them to start, moving towards the position he was supposed to take.

Near the double doors, the smell of burnt caramel was suffocating. A red light filtered through the space between the old wood sheets, reminiscent of the dark rooms used to develop photographs. Kenma felt his own pulse pound inside his skull, and he found himself holding his breath until his lungs screamed. That was perhaps the most stupid and risky decision he'd ever made, and yet he dared not listen to his subconscious.

_You're a useless piece of shit, you'll only get killed._

Kenma blinked, his eyes burning. If it wasn't him, who else would it be? Kuroo had volunteered and surely Bokuto had it in mind. Eventually, it could be someone he didn't know, one of those other alphas who went with them—a quiet-faced, short-haired afro-japanese—would have had to do it, but the guilt would still be there, twisting in the bottom of his stomach. He had a gun, good aim, he could move well, he wasn't stifled by a fucking mask, pheromones didn't affect him, _who else could be a more perfect candidate?_

_You're a useless piece of shit, you'll only get killed._

What was the point if he was going to let others do everything for him? He might not have got there on his own, being helped many times by Akaashi, and lately by Kuroo, but he couldn't keep on depending on others. It wasn't right, it was unfair, even though his past was coming to life and ripping away what little sanity he had left. He wasn't going to let others die because of him, for not acting, for being a fucking coward.

_You'll see, everything's gonna be alright._

Kuroo's words echoed inside Kenma’s head once more, bringing the silence with them. He was able to breathe, take in a great gasp of air, and slowly push it out of his lungs, letting his muscles relax. _There was no going back._

Kenma kicked open both doors, revealing his target: a seven-foot-tall alpha woman with a muscular build and white hair that fell to her broad shoulders. Her expression was calm, even under the gloomy red bulb hanging from the ceiling. A smile spread across her face as soon as her red eyes fell on the beta, giving him a childlike look that would make anyone's stomach twist.

“Oh! What do we have here?”

Before the woman moved, or regret made him take a step back, Kenma lunged towards her, holding the pistol tightly in his right hand. He raised the barrel, aiming for the neck or the head, at this point he didn't care where the bullet would land as long as he killed that monster. The beta held his breath, noticing that there was no punch flying in his direction, and pulled the trigger.

Everything happened in slow motion: the explosion, the bullet hitting the ceiling, that leather boot wedging itself into Kenma’s side. He didn't even have time to process what was happening when his body slammed into the wall to the side, expelling all the air from his lungs in the middle of a gasp. He heard the crack of his bones as they were crushed against the concrete, and he saw colored lights dance before his eyes. Kenma coughed over and over again, gasping like a fish out of water, trying with all his might to get some air into his fucking body.

“You are so small, it was like hitting an inflatable toy!” The woman's laughing voice reached Kenma’s ears, and the tips of black leather boots soon appeared in front of his nostrils. He gasped, where was his gun? “Oi, are you still alive? Oi!”

Kenma tried to move, even crawl, but his muscles were shaking too much to even be of any use. The alpha bent down, grabbing him by the hair and lifting him, leaving his feet suspended about four inches off the ground. His scalp howled in pain, and Kenma couldn't keep tears from blurring his vision. _It hurt, it hurt so much, where was his gun?_

"You're also _very_ cute," she exclaimed, with a tone as cheerful as it was creepy. She approached, pressing his nose to Kenma's neck, who held his breath as he felt the woman inhale vigorously. He wanted to cry. “It's a shame you're not an omega, I would have loved to _have fun with you_ for a bit.”

The alpha released him, and Kenma couldn't contain a groan as he slammed to the ground. The side where he had received the kick felt hot, and he was certain that if he tried to move it would hurt like hell, but he still did: he flexed his legs and arms under his body in a desperate attempt to get up and run away, but another kick sent him back against the wall.

This time it was against his ribs, and he could clearly hear the crunch of his bones breaking. A wave of pain ran through his body, making him cough up a pitiful whimper as he tried to get up again, but he didn't have time: another kick, this time to his stomach, took his breath away, making him vomit the contents of his stomach. The beta twisted in agony, panting, trying with all his might to keep breathing, but the blows continued.

Over and over, the woman's heavy boot slammed into his ribs and belly, drawing screams that seemed made by an animal. Kenma only managed to cover his face with his forearms, feeling how his organs were being pulverized inside him. Blood hummed against his adrenaline-fueled eardrums, and desperation soon clouded his judgment.

Kenma saw the glow of the gun barrel a few feet away from him, so he waited for the pause, the one the monster needed to take her foot back before the next kick, and moved. He lay flat on his aching belly, both arms outstretched in one last attempt to reach for the weapon, but his fingertips barely brushed the grip. And, before the beta managed to cover himself again or even process what was happening, he heard the air whistle near his ear.

Kenma's body slumped from the impact on his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Happy holidays!! It's been a while... like a month OTL. I was busy with college and i couldn't finish the translation until now nnngh sorry for being this late and I hope the wait was worth it haha<3<3 btw i fixed the links on the chapter 5;; 
> 
> Here are the references i used to write this chapter: [kuroken sleep time](https://mookie000.tumblr.com/post/166682232817/sleep-time), [kuroken morning](https://mookie000art.tumblr.com/post/153760668765/what-a-sap)
> 
> And here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09). I have cc if you wanna drop some theories, comments, questions... it's always open. Thanks for all the support, I'll be reading your comments!! ❤️❤️


	7. You'll see, everything's gonna be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past returns for Kenma and Kuroo, only to crush them between its hungry jaws.
> 
> TW: violence, blood, nails, mentions of past sexual abuse (Kuroo) and teasing about it.

The sun rays caress Kenma’s eyelids, making red dance behind them. Shadows cross like elongated fingers, some fleeting and others occasional, creating a scene sculpted in the colors of the sunset. Heat bites his cheeks while the unmistakable sea salt scent fills his nose and the distant sound of seagulls dances in his ears. Kenma frowns, grimacing, squinting his eyelids and trying to go back to sleep, but it's useless; he ends up opening his eyes, greeted by a blinding light. He blinks, keeping his eyes slightly narrowed, until his sight adjusts and a heavenly firmament full of cotton-white clouds greets him, filling the stage with his dreamlike forms.

"Oh, Kenma, you’re awake."

A voice beside Kenma catches his attention, making him blink again, this time slower. It takes a few moments for his body to react, sitting on the smooth surface and feeling it deform under his weight, taking the shape of his legs and butt. The beta’s eyes go from the sky to the white sand, and then to the sea. The turquoise, transparent water calmly laps the shore of the wide beach, fluttering like white foam when it hits land. Gray rocks stand out in its blue entrails, carved by years of withstanding the waves' blows.

A warm hand rests on his forehead, causing Kenma to look away to his side. Akaashi is there, wearing a straw hat, a blue short-sleeved T-shirt, and white shorts. He goes barefoot, letting the sand seep through his toes, sticking to the skin of his legs. Small specks of light stain his skin, a consequence of the sun streaming through the hat; the omega’s eyes sparkle, mixing in shades of gray, blue and green. A small smile tugs at Akaashi’s lips, giving him an expression as calm as it is kind.

It takes Kenma a few seconds to find his own voice, embarrassed by such beauty.

"... Akaashi?" The omega nods, broadening his smile. Kenma feels stupid and his cheeks turn a little redder, but the sun's rays are no longer to blame. “Where are we?”

"I think the answer is obvious," Akaashi replies, looking away towards the coast. The hand moves away, leaving a void on his forehead. Seagulls screech, and the sound of the waves lulls them in the distance. “After all, you were the one who wanted to come here.”

“I was...?”

Kenma blinks again, looking down at the sand. He sees his own hands, as small and thin as ever — why wouldn't they be? — and picks up a handful of sand. The pimples slip through his fingers, as he searches for the reason he would want to be there. Kenma feels a pang in his head, and the unmistakable taste of blood fills his mouth. He can't breathe, his insides are on fire, and he gasps like a fish out of water. Panic clings to his heart like a claw, squeezing it, closing his sight for long, agonizing seconds.

“So?” Akaashi asks.

The last grain of sand falls out of Kenma’s now empty hand . He breathes again, and the pain in his temple disappears as if nothing had happened.

"... I don't remember," Kenma replies, in a whisper. The warm sea breeze caresses his skin, releasing some strands from the ponytail that gathers his long hair. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs, before slowly expelling it. “Have we been here before? I don't remember any beach that is like this.”

"It could be said that you've seen it a couple of times, but you've never been in it," Akaashi explains, stretching. He put his hands at his sides for support while leaning his torso back. The specks of sun dance over his skin, and Kenma can't take his eyes off him.

"Oh.”

"Well, it doesn't matter," says the omega, closing his eyes. A small silence forms, only filled by the sound of the waves and the occasional squawking of the seagulls. In the background, the sea breaks against the rocks, exploding in jets of white foam. Akaashi opens his eyes, his gaze on the horizon. “So… How are you? I remember you wanted to talk to Kuroo-san.”

"Oh, I’m good," Kenma answers, without thinking too much. Another thrust into his temple, softer,  _ when had he spoken to Kuroo?  _ “It turned out better than I expected.”

“Oh, really?” Akaashi smiles, speaking with genuine joy. “Even when you told him you went through his files and read about the abuse?”

Blood fills Kenma’s mouth again, and his throat closes. The cold creeps up his legs, while his temples are pierced again and again by invisible blades. He gasps, he's gasping for air, his ribs howl in pain and his heart twists. The sand hardens, causing his bones to dig into his flesh. What's going on? He doesn't know, nobody knows.

Akaashi, faced with the silence, turns his head, fixing those huge gray eyes—or were they blue?—into Kenma’s, with the specks of light looking like freckles on his cheekbones. The omega blinks, the irises are green, and he tilts his head with a question written across his face. At this, Kenma looks for his voice again, feeling his chest being pressed by an invisible force.

“How...?”

"You know well that it is a crime to go through files, especially those of your coworkers," Akaashi says, his voice soft. He blinks again, and the gray is bathed in blue. The sea breeze brushes their skin, cold and damp, the smell of blood permeating their pores. “I trusted you, and you still didn't care if it affected me. They could fire me for what you did, you know? You logged in with my name and password.”

"I-I'm sorry…" The words come out in a rush, scraping Kenma’s throat. His eyes burn, and the pain in his temples begins to move to the side of his face, infecting every corner of it. He tastes the blood, can feel the clots form against his tongue. “I... I was scared, I know I was reckless but—” 

"‘But I fixed it,’" Akaashi interrupts, smiling. His eyes are gray, and the rays of the sun make them sparkle blue and green. “And Akaashi always forgives you for this kind of thing, because he's a good friend.”

Kenma nods. The pressure goes away, so does the blood. Seagulls squawk, and sea salt clings to the skin of his face. He licks his dry lips, turning his gaze to the turquoise water, as the breeze caresses his bare legs again.

"Akaashi," the beta begins. The other turns his face to look at him, "how are you doing with Bokuto?"

"Oh, I guess we’re fine," the omega replies, shrugging. Kenma glances at him, watching him bury his toes in the white sand, which sticks to him like a second skin. “I thought you didn't care anymore.”

"Of course I care, I just..." Kenma licks his lips again, guilt tastes like blood. "... I had other things on my mind, y’know."

"It's not like you're really interested in others either." The omega laughs, and the waves crash against the rocks again. A shot sounds. “You only care about yourself.”

"That's not— "

“Oh, of course it's true," Akaashi exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

The sunlight is no longer warm, and the sand begins to devour Kenma's feet. His body temperature drops, while the claw squeezes his heart again. The beta feels the bile on his tongue mix with the iron in his blood. Kenma can't breathe.

"First was that kid in high school, do you even remember his name? Of course not, at best you know he existed. You fucked him and then threw him away,” Akaashi says. 

Twinges appear in Kenma’s ribs, and the left side of his body turns on fire. He gasps, trying to catch even a paltry breath of air. 

“But that doesn't matter, because you succeeded. It was really cool, the Dahmer case, don't you think? Going to that dirty apartment and discovering the corpses, the gnawed remains left by that monster,” the omega continues. “All thanks to dear Akaashi, who you lie to and hide things from as it suits you.”

Kenma’s head is spinning and his eyes are burning, he can't breathe. Blood creeps up his throat, running out of his nose and pooling in his mouth.

“But that doesn't matter, of course; as long as nobody knows, everything will be fine. The great detective Kenma can do whatever the hell he wants.”

The sun is red, and the ocean is full of blood. Kenma clutches his neck, clawing at it, trying to open a gap through which to breathe. Shadows lurk around the corners of his eyes. 

“Isn't that what Kuroo-san called you? He holds you in very high regard considering what a useless piece of shit you are.” A long smile spreads across Akaashi's face, splitting the flesh at the corners. “You should die, don't you think? You can't even hold a gun to shoot where they ask you to.  _ Fucking die already, you stupid piece of shit _ .”

Hot tears run down Kenma’s cheeks, and the gagging doesn't take long to twist his stomach. He wraps his fingers around his throat, begging for help that never comes. Dry, almost rhythmic thumps echo in his ears as the sand engulfs his legs. It's cold, he feels like his eyes and heart are going to explode, why?

The beta bents over himself, gasping, choking on his own fluids. The blows are replaced by a high-pitched, deafening whistle, and his field of vision transforms into a dim black-walled tunnel. Crimson waves creep across the sand to Kenma’s feet, licking his toes and slipping between them, up his wimpy legs. His muscles howl in unison, and the skin on his neck accumulates under his fingernails as the scratches increase. He coughs over and over again, blood coming out of his mouth and nose.

_ Why? _

"Kenma."

A hand rests on his shoulder, and the illusion fades. The sea breeze caresses his face, the sun's rays kiss his cold body again and the water leaves his feet. Kenma removes his hands from his neck, feeling against them the porous texture of the sand, which seeps under his nails. He stands still for a moment, waiting for a hit that never comes. He takes a deep breath, filling his aching lungs with air, feeling like he's going to pass out at any moment.

The hand on Kenma’s shoulder moves slowly down his back, caressing him, until it ends with a patting that catches his attention. He turns his face and meets Akaashi's, the freckles of light cover the omega’s cheekbones and his gray gaze flashes again, as his lips curl into an understanding smile.

"You can't keep running away anymore."

"E-Eh?"

"The answer to your question," Akaashi exclaims, tilting his head. A chill runs down Kenma's spine and the smell of blood dances in his nose once again. He shouldn't be there. "’What would Akaashi say at a time like this?’" he quotes. The sun stops heating and thumps are heard in the distance, like the distant echo of a nightmare he had forgotten. 

“It is time to face reality,” Akaashi says, with a soft smile.

The blows are getting louder, and the taste of blood fills his mouth.

"You can't keep running away, Kenma."

And Kenma wakes up.

* * *

Kenma's eyes snapped open, sucking in a deep breath, choking on the ball of clotted blood in his throat. His head is spinning, and the pain in his side worsens with each passing second, perhaps due to a couple of broken ribs. He was still lying on the floor of the dirty abandoned building, in that same room with red light and surrounded by debris. It took him a few moments to realize that the wetness against his cheek was his own vomit.

The whole scene was a cluster of fuzzy spots, and the sounds seemed to come from miles underwater. He could barely perceive where his body began and where it ended, so he took a few seconds to collect his thoughts, or at least get out of the confusion a bit. He blinked fast over and over, forcing himself to keep on breathing and stay awake.

The first thing he managed to focus on was a white-haired female alpha. She was hitting an arm that clung to a knife stuck in her shoulder with all her might. She pounded at the man on her over and over again, until the distinctive sound of bones breaking filled the disgusting room, followed by a scream Kenma recognized: it was Bokuto.

He blinked again, seeing a bit more of the scene when his eyes opened back. Bokuto had—apparently—managed to drive a knife into the monster. He clung to it as if hiss life depended on it while the rest of his body dangled. From the position of his legs it wasn’t hard to suppose that he had slipped or that they were injured, but that wasn’t as worrying as the unnatural angle his right arm had bent after the repeated impacts.

“Is this the best you have?!” The woman roared, landing one last blow to Bokuto. He released the handle protruding from her shoulder, hitting the ground with a dry sound. He didn’t move again. “And so you dare to call yourselves alphas?!”

Kenma felt his stomach clench at the shouts, hearing his own throbbing against his eardrums. He rested his palms on the ground, in a sad, useless attempt to get up; his arms were shaking, and the muscles in his back refused to obey him. He only managed to be punished with waves of pain in his left side, before collapsing in the same place, panting. The vomit mixed with the blood dripping from his nose, forming a foul mass that clung to his cheek, burning his skin.

He watched as the woman kicked Bokuto in the stomach, causing him to groan. The childish smile had not disappeared from her face, now even more terrifying due to the blood that fell from her nose and the blows that had deformed her features. She didn't seem to notice, moving as if she didn't have a knife stuck in her shoulder or as if the bullet wounds along her massive arms were mere scratches. The blood ran down her white skin in thin threads, until it reached her fingertips and fell into the void.

The image was grotesque, and it only churned Kenma's stomach until he felt bile against his tongue once more. That alpha was not like the one who had tried to abuse Akaashi at the bar, the one responsible for the bite, she was unlike anything he had ever seen before. She was a monster, the kind of alpha that omegas pray every night not to run into and that even their own kind fear.

_ They were going to die. _

Panic clung to Kenma’s chest, crushing his heart and turning each breath into torture. He tried to get up again, breaking his nails against the ground, feeling lashes of pain run down his spine. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyelids while the sudden urge to flee invaded every inch of his mind. The chaos was deafening and, just like a cornered animal, the beta desperately searched for an opening, a hiding place, anything that would help him hide from that albino monster.

And then Kenma saw  _ him. _

Across the room, in limbo between collapsing and getting back on his feet; it was Kuroo, with a dirty knee to the side and both palms resting under his body. The alpha struggled to get up, his hair flattened and stuck to his skin with sweat. The alpha had lost his mask, exposing his bruised face. His jaw was set, holding an expression that looked rather like pain than anger, as blood dripped from his lips. His whole body trembled in a silent battle against himself.

Kenma's heart contracted, and he couldn't help gasping as the female alpha turned on the other. The beta felt pangs of pain on his fingertips as his fingernails finally detached, but he ignored them. He focused all his strength on the muscles of his arms, managing to lift himself a few inches, where he stopped to rest. He had to help him, he had to help him.

“Oh, look who’s awake!” The woman exclaimed, with that childish joy that did not seem to leave her. Kenma saw her approach Kuroo, leaning over him and grabbing him by the hair. The groan he let out jabbed like needles into Kenma’s ears, tensing his muscles in a cloud of panic. “To be so weak you have a great fighting spirit. Tell me your name, so I can say that I defeated someone very powerful when I kill you!”

Silence. The beta could only hear his own throbbing against his ears, and his head had begun to ache. Still, he didn't give up, putting a few inches between his chest and the ground, enough to flex his knee and tuck it under his body.

" _ Fuck you _ ," Kuroo spat, gasping as the alpha tugged at his hair, forcing him to lift his face.

“Hey, you don't have to be so rude with me!” She whimpered, pouting. She paused, leaving her expression blank for a few seconds, during which Kenma managed to get his other knee under his body.  _ There is little left, you can't keep running away _ . “Wait, now that I see your face... Aren't you Kuroo Tetsurō, that boy who almost died in Nekoma's bathrooms?”

A heavy silence formed, leaving only the background murmurs of the men in the next room. Kenma felt the air rush out of his lungs, and he could only look up at the alpha's face.

Kuroo's skin had suddenly lost its color, and his eyes were so wide that the iris was a perfect circle,  although they were darkened by the black of his dilated pupils . His lips, as pale as his skin, trembled, opening and closing over and over again, gasping like a fish out of water. His chest rose and fell erratically, while the rest of his body hung limp like a broken wrist, being jerked from time to time by some involuntary spasm.

Kuroo’s face was contorted with horror, the same expression he had that time when Kenma picked him up on the street in the middle of the dawn after a panic attack.

“Of course, how did I not notice it before!” The female alpha exclaimed, slapping her forehead with her hand. She was grinning from ear to ear, a joy that was too much of a contrast to her face covered in blood. It was a nightmare image. “I knew I had seen that weird hairstyle of yours elsewhere!”

Kenma was no longer breathing, at this point his lungs could just fuck off. He bit the inside of his cheek until he felt the heat of the blood fill his mouth again. Straining his muscles until the pain was a dull ringing in his ears, he managed to get one foot up, leaning on the wall to straighten up a bit before moving on to the other. Nails that weren't broken ended up splitting and peeling off his flesh, splintering and bending at angles that would have made anyone swoon, but he didn't care.

_ He could only see Kuroo. _

The beta picked up a piece of glass that was close to him, wielding it until he felt it tear his skin, tensing his legs to finish getting up. He stuck the makeshift weapon to his side, trying to hide it from unwanted glances.

_ You can't keep running away _ .

"Man, all the third-graders had that video!" The woman exclaimed, bringing her free hand up to her face in a cartoonish expression. She sighed melancholy. “I've never seen an alpha cry so much,  you're not so brave after all, are you? ”

She released Kuroo's hair, and his body slammed into the ground without even fighting. Kuroo was shaking, breathing shallow and fast, he was hyperventilating. He didn't even blink when the monstrous woman smashed his face against the concrete, laughing and calling his name over and over again.

“Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo! ‘The boy stabbed from the toilets’, that's how they called you!”

She laughed and Kenma's blood boiled inside his veins, how could someone like that breathe the same air as them? How did the gods allow such a monster to live?

"It was really a shame the police confiscated everything, we were just having fun!"

The beta closed his hand around the glass, feeling a hot burn run through his body. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth, feeling anger waves flood his muscles. His side stopped hurting, and he could see the scene before him clearer than ever, even more than on the day of the incident.

“You should have—!”

“ _ Let him go! _ ”

Kenma’s voice was like thunder in the middle of the silence, to the point where even the alphas outside fell silent. There was nothing more to be heard except for an occasional drip, perhaps product of some too insistent bleeding, or maybe it was just sweat.

The first thing Kenma felt on him was that pair of amber eyes he adored, staring at him with the purest panic and a silent plea. ‘Run away’ they said, both he and Kuroo knew there was no going back from that point, but he didn't care. He was tired of running away, of always having to hide with his head between his knees, begging not to be found, spending days without sleep due to constant nightmares. He was tired of insecurity eating at him until he ended up hurting others.

_ You can't keep running away, Kenma. _

"Oh, what do we have here." The woman left Kuroo's body alone, slowly getting up and turning to face Kenma. Her expression kept that strange calm that it had from the beginning, although from the shadow that covered her crimson eyes it was not difficult to tell that she was upset. “Weren't you dead? I gave you a good kick in the head.”

Kenma didn’t say a word, holding his breath. To be honest, the beta had no idea what to do now. He had shouted without thinking, not even having a plan in mind, he just wanted her to leave Kuroo alone. He still remembered the night when he picked up the alpha in the middle of the street, how he trembled and cried for something that, at that moment, he didn’t understand, but now he knew well.

What right did that monster have to treat them like trash? Hitting and fighting to death was one thing, Kenma was used to it because of the job he had. People kill people, the strong crush the weak; the world has worked like this even before history, but taking advantage of others' trauma as if they were a game? That was playing dirty, and he couldn't stand cheaters.

"Your face is scary. You have a ferocious expression for being so small!" She exclaimed, receiving no answer. Kenma clenched his fists, feeling the glass bury into his palm. He didn't have a single chance, he was sure, but at least he could be a good distraction. “Oi! Are you deaf or what? I'm talking to you, pudding head.”

Kenma swallowed hard, nibbling the inside of his cheek. The beta was standing with his legs slightly spread, hoping his knees didn't buckle and made him slam his face against the ground. He couldn't move, let alone escape, so he just had to wait for a miracle to happen.  _ Iwaizumi can shoot her, right?, _ Kenma thought, carefully moving his eyes to the double doors he had entered through who knows how long ago.

“Oi!” The woman exclaimed, lengthening the sound.

The alpha took a step forward, and Kenma's heart leapt inside his chest. The entrance was wide open, revealing a bit of the men waiting outside. Considering the strength and fighting ability that his opponent had, the most logical thing was to ensure the safety of the remaining soldiers until they had a chance to attack. He—and this without ever having led such an operation—would have made the same decision: to lose as few men as possible. Human resources are not infinite, and in the field of Special Forces with that level of deployment they used to be even more limited. It was insane to take a chance to save three stragglers who didn't even know if they would survive.

If they wanted to get out of there alive, they needed a chance; rather, a lure that would let them act.

“Why don't you answer me, huh? C’mon, it's not funny talking alone!”

The woman's steps were heavy, making Kenma's bones tremble. He had been the one who volunteered to go in first, to take the first shot and finish the monster at once, but he had lost pathetically. He had let the pistol slip out of his hands and he hadn’t been able to reach it at the precise moment, not to mention that with only a few blows he was knocked out. Without a gun in his hands he was weak, useless. Because of him Kuroo and Bokuto were injured, perhaps with life-long consequences.

Kenma had to do it more than anyone, despite having everything against him. If he could just break through the monster's defense, he could save the mission, save them all.

“Oi!”

The female alpha stopped in front of him, barely a couple of feet apart. At this close, the height and build difference was more than evident, and Kenma couldn't help but feel his knees turn into a jelly-like mass. Nevertheless, he didn't back down, having the balls to lift his chin and face the alpha, fixing his golden eyes at the other’s. The woman's pupils were dilated, two black holes, crowned by that crimson iris that combined quite well with the veins that ran through her sclera and the blood that stained her face. The smell of burning caramel hit Kenma hard again, irritating his nose and throat.

He would have liked to grimace, but the possibility that the woman would get upset and slap his head off stopped him.

"You really are peculiar, doesn't it hurt?" The alpha leaned down, pointing her finger at the side of Kenma she had kicked. He had to put up with the urge to back down.  _ Please, Iwaizumi, anyone _ . “Anyone else would be crying on the ground!”

The woman giggled, and the beta felt his body shrink at each laugh. Her breath reeked of cigarettes and blood, and there were traces of white powder on her broken nose.

"You’re quite tough for a beta..." Kenma's eyes darted from the female alpha’s face to the body she had left behind. Kuroo was still shaking on the ground, and for a moment Kenma thought he could hear him sobbing. His heart contracted. “Oi, I'm talking to you!”

The alpha's huge head peeped in his vision field, blocking Kuroo’s body, and almost making him flinch. “Why are you looking at him so much? Is he your boyfriend or something?”

Kenma swallowed, his expression hardening.

“He is your boyfriend!” She chuckled, enjoying her ‘discovery’ as if it were some kind of victory. Meanwhile, the beta only felt anger creep up his throat again.

“Well, I'm not surprised, surely no omega pays attention to him,” she continued. Kenma’s blood was boiling.  _ Shut up, shut up _ . “You can smell it, you know? The weakness and all that.”

A smile spread across her face, outlining her fangs. “An alpha that lets themselves be taken by other alphas... That has no name, it shouldn't exist.”

Anger flooded Kenma’s throat, working its way up to his mouth. He felt like he could spit fire if he opened his lips. _ Shut up, shut up, shut up.. _ .

“It really was a shame they found him, don't you think? Living with that humiliation... Fuck, I don't want to imagine what his parents said.”

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up... _

“ And how does it work? Do you put it in? ”

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up...! _

"He sure likes it, you should have seen the video, he cried like a whore!"

_ “Shut up!” _

Kenma’s body moved on its own, closing the short distance between him and the female alpha, who noticed his intentions at the last moment. From below, he slashed an arc with his left hand, slicing through the woman's face from the right side of the jaw, past her mouth and nose, before a punch to his ribs knocked him to the ground. The air left his lungs, and Kenma found himself gasping and coughing, trying to catch his breath. The piece of glass was still in his hand, now covered in both his rival's blood and his own.

And, before he could even process what he had just done, a hoarse laugh made him turn his face, finding his ‘work of art.’

“That shows who wears the pants in the relationship, huh.”

The alpha, hunched over, her right hand covered with the blood that gushed from her face, smiled from ear to ear, opening the cut in her mouth, distorting her expression until it became terrifying. Her eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets, and she was breathing so hard that trickles of saliva shot from between her teeth, mixed with the blood that stained her lips.

Kenma didn’t have time to move away or regain his guard; in the blink of an eye, he had the monster on top of him, jaws wide open and a roar rising from her throat. In a reflex action, the beta moved his right arm, wedging it between the woman's teeth and his neck, watching in slow motion how the teeth sank into his skin, working their way through his muscles until they stopped at the bone. She started shaking her head, pulling, tearing, and a scream filled the room.

It took Kenma a few moments to realize that he was the one screaming.

His ears were plugged as if the pressure around him had changed, but inside his head he could still hear the sound of the teeth scraping against bone. The sharp pain in his right forearm got mixed with a wave of panic because of the heavy body above him, making his survival instincts kick in: swinging his free arm in an arc, he stabbed the woman with the piece of glass repeatedly, feeling how her hot blood splattered his face.

He twisted and kicked the air, feeling his throat raw while tears ran down his cheeks. It felt as if his nerves were being ripped out with pliers, crushing them and pulling them one by one. Kenma thought he would pass out—it would have been better than being conscious, watching his arm being reduced to flesh shreds—but adrenaline kept him awake, kept him stabbing without even looking at where the glass was nailing. His head was a hurricane, where everything turned into screams of agony and pleas for him to stop.  _ It hurts, it hurts so much! Stop, stop, stop!  _

Kenma didn't know how long he had been there, if it had been seconds or hours, but something—or someone—grabbed the alpha by the hair, pulling her with such strength that it shook her off. It was Ushijima, who held the monster with his dry expression furrowed by anger—at least from what could be seen through the mask's lenses—, yelling something Kenma couldn't hear in the middle of his panic. The pain in his forearm was excruciating, and he only managed to reach out with the opposite hand and hold the remains of his limb, feeling the blood spurt between his fingers. Looking down, nausea shook him at the sight of a reddish mass of flesh where his skin should have been, so he forced himself to look up at the scene before him.

Ushijima held the woman by the arms, twisting them behind her back as she growled and spat insults into the air. After pulling her a couple of feet away, he kicked the back of her legs, forcing her to her knees. At that moment Iwaizumi entered the scene, with the shotgun in his hands pointing to the ground. The alpha raised the gun, setting the barrel against the woman's skull, holding it tight and putting his finger on the trigger. They said something that Kenma could only perceive as murmurs, making the white-haired monster grin from ear to ear, before hearing the 'click' of the finger pulling the trigger.

Kenma closed his eyes before the shot, feeling a sort of peace run through him at the sound of the alpha's skull exploding and brains spilling onto the ground. It was over.

“Kenma!”

Kuroo's voice made him open his eyes again, meeting his terrified face. Pale as paper, the alpha was staring at him, wide-eyed, crooked mouth and furrowed brows, panic at its purest. At this, the beta tried to stand up, but his feet slipped on the ground. The world began to spin around him, what the hell was going on?

“Take Bokuto away!” Ushijima's shouts reached him from afar, as shadows engulfed the edges of his gaze. Kenma blinked slowly, hearing footsteps rumble to his side, then a pair of arms slid under his body. He stopped feeling the floor against his back, and his gaze was fixed on the dirty concrete ceiling. Where was Kuroo? “Move, move!”

More thumping footsteps, and his body bounced in time. The blood felt hot against his fingers, which seemed to be getting colder. Tiredness tugged at his eyelids, blurring his vision, making the world around him spin so much that he no longer knew where he was. The pain in his arm was gradually deafened, so was the pain in his ribs. Where were they taking him? He tried to stay awake, but the weight of exhaustion was stronger than he was.

_ Akaashi, I didn't run away _ , he thought as his eyes closed. He heard sirens in the distance, and shouts of voices he didn’t recognize.  _ Are you proud of me now? _

The last thing Kenma saw was the cloudy sky, and the white flakes falling on his face.

* * *

Kenma woke up to screams and honking cars, feeling an overwhelming cold creeping up his legs, penetrating his bones and numbinghis muscles. He was lying on his back, and over his head was the velvet roof of a car he didn’t remember. Through the window he could see the city lights, too bright and with fuzzy edges, like a child's watercolor. His body felt heavy, but his head was light; it was like sitting in the clouds. What happened?

He moved his eyes from side to side, stopping his lazy gaze on the face that was practically above him. It was Kuroo, moving his lips and saying something that  his ears perceived as a whisper , but it was still him. He had traces of dried blood on his lip and forehead, as well as some cuts on his cheeks and a swollen cheekbone, which was beginning to take on a reddish hue. His eyes were puffy, and it wasn't hard to tell from his expression that he was upset, his jaw and neck tendons tightening, as if he were about to explode.

Kenma tried to settle, but his muscles did nothing but tremble. Little by little, he began to feel the shape of legs against his back, and at that moment he realized he was lying on Kuroo's lap. He could also make out that the heat passing through his shoulders was actually an arm, holding him firmly. Kenma blinked slowly, trying once more to settle, but without changing the result. Where was he, what had happened? His memories were surrounded by a thick haze that he couldn’t get through, and the very idea of trying harder to remember was really exhausting him, so he resigned himself.

“For god’s sake, go for the fucking sidewalk!”

The roar that Kuroo let out—perhaps he had only raised his voice, but it sounded like a roar in his ears—hit his eardrums, making him let out a small groan. This was enough to attract the attention of the alpha, who looked at him with wild eyes. Kenma turned his gaze to the other’s, capturing the small details of those amber irises despite the darkness. The lights from outside were still annoying, but they were enough to bathe Kuroo's eyes in color. Since when was that idiot so beautiful?

Kuroo's lips moved, spilling words the beta couldn't hear—his ears were still plugged—but he thought he read his name on them. The grip around his shoulders tightened and his torso was slightly lifted, he was brought closer to the alpha. Kuroo kept calling his name, shaking him gently, while his expression broke apart. His chin trembled and his lips tightened increasingly while each silence was followed by the gleam of his white teeth, which he seemed to clench tightly. He was frowning, forming deep furrows on his forehead. Kenma had never seen him in such a state, not even the night when he cried himself to sleep.

"Kenma, please _. _ "

That whisper crept under the beta’s skin like a snake, sending little chills down his spine. He was tired, but still tried to think of something to tell him that nothing was wrong.

_ I'm fine, Kuro. _

His mouth didn't move, his lips barely twitching. At that moment, he felt the burning in his throat, as if it had been scratched raw. Had he been screaming? The haze in his memory grew thicker, and exhaustion eventually overtook him. His eyelids felt heavy, he really wanted to sleep, but he couldn't leave Kuroo in that state, what kind of person would do something like that?

He felt small blows against his cheeks, so hot he thought they would burn him. He blinked slowly, realizing they were drops when he felt them slide down his skin until they were lost where his hair grew. It took him a while to notice that they were tears, and a little more to look back at Kuroo's face—when had his eyes returned to the ceiling? The alpha, who a few moments ago had been calling his name now was crying, closing his eyes with such strength that his whole face was wrinkled. His jaw was clenched, letting out an occasional gasp that shook his chest. He seemed to be struggling, as if he didn't want to be heard.

Kenma's heart contracted painfully, and he tried to raise his arm to touch Kuroo’s face.

_ I'm fine, Kuro, don't cry. _

Kenma’s hand didn’t move, and he only felt an electric shock rise to his right shoulder when he tried to tense his muscles. He blinked, narrowing his eyes, what the hell was wrong? He tried to move his arm again, and the shock was stronger, this time reaching his spine and traveling from head to toe. Kenma blinked again, looking down at his chest, where he felt his arm was.

Where his forearm should have been, he saw a mixture of flesh, cloth and skin, everything was so full of blood that it was hard for him to understand that it was his limb. At the end of it all was his hand, with most of his nails broken and dirty, while a couple had peeled off from the flesh and were now pointing toward the ceiling. He tried moving his fingers, but they only trembled slightly, before going limp again.

Little by little, Kenma became aware of his own body: the wet blood that covered his chest, that piece of cloth that surrounded his arm cutting off his circulation, his legs reaching out to the other seat —he was in the back of the car apparently— and lying on Bokuto's lap—he hadn't seen him until that moment, the alpha was too quiet to be himself—the dull ache in his ribs... that last thing was what dissipated the haze a bit, bringing back the memories of the past hours as he returned his gaze to the roof of the car.

Like an old film, the images played before his eyes in slow motion: the female alpha, his body getting hit repeatedly on the floor, the kick in his head, Akaashi on the beach, Kuroo sobbing and the alpha mocking his abuse. Him confronting her, his arm ripped apart by her teeth, the stabs with the glass, the screaming, the blood— everything. The details danced before him, as clear as if he was reliving it, even when it came to the strange shoreline where he spoke to Akaashi.

_ You can't keep running away, Kenma. _

A chill ran down his spine, and he felt Kuroo's hug bring him closer to his chest, until he felt suffocated by the other's body heat. He had kept that ‘promise’, though it really didn't make much sense. The Akaashi he had seen was and was not Akaashi: his words weighed as well as his friend's, but he didn’t believe they were his entirely; he would never call him a "piece of shit" or tell him to die, and his eyes didn't change color either. If he thought about it, it felt like talking to himself, even if that didn't make sense. Ah, how many times had he already said "sense"? His head was spinning, and the cold that bit his legs was starting to be somewhat annoying.

“Fuck! Can't you go faster?!”

“I'm going as fast as I can, dammit!”

Kenma recognized Iwaizumi's voice between the screaming, and it took him a few seconds to turn his gaze to him. The alpha drove stiff-bodied, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned white. His hair was a lot messier than usual—was spiky even a ‘hairstyle’?—and by how tense his shoulders were, it was easy to deduce the stress he was under. Every once in a while he would blast his horn with an open hand, leaning out of the window to shout insults and then maneuvering in such a way that the whole car shook. Kenma wanted to ask where they were going in such a hurry, but no words came out of his mouth, so he resigned himself to silence.

Kuroo hugged him again, this time leaning over him and pressing his forehead to his, forcing him to narrow his eyes, avoiding the other's bangs. The alpha's sobs were clear, and he could even feel the little hiccups that shook him from time to time. Kenma really wanted to comfort him, tell him that nothing was wrong and that he would be fine, but his body refused to obey him. His limbs were getting more numb with each passing second—did he even still had them? At this point, it didn't matter if they fell off or something, they weren't doing much good either.

In a weak effort, he tried to bring his head closer to the alpha's torso, hoping to calm him in some way he wasn't sure of.

_ ‘You'll see that everything works out’, remember? _

Kenma's lips trembled, but no word came out of them. He could feel Kuroo's fingers grip his shoulder through the fabric, and the weight of a second arm soon appeared on his chest, completing the embrace.

_ I'm fine, please don't cry anymore. _

"Kenma,  _ please, _ " Kuroo begged, choking on his own voice. The alpha's entire body was shaking, and the tears kept falling—Kenma's face was already wet. “ _ Please don’t leave me. _ ”

Kenma’s heart clenched, and he could feel the edges of his eyelids burning, but he could only close his eyes. The cold was already reaching his hips, and the moisture in his shirt kept increasing. At some point his bulletproof vest had been removed—presumably while he was unconscious—so the breeze that blew through the pilot's window cooled the blood that soaked his stomach and chest. He didn't need to look to know how much blood he had lost, or to realize the situation he was in. One idea that had crossed his mind a thousand times in stressful situations, and he joked about it as if it were something far away that would never reach him, just like everyone used to do.

He was going to die.

The place where Kuroo's knees were against his back was starting to get sore, sending a dull ache down his spine. He was uncomfortable, being surrounded by the alpha was like stepping into an oven, but as much as he wanted, his body was not going to move. His legs had become a distant tingle, and he couldn't even make his fingers tremble anymore. Those were, perhaps, his last moments in that world, and he would have to spend them in the back of a car, hugged by a person who he hurt so much that he didn’t even know if there was a word to describe it. Just like his entire life, his ending would be pathetic and meaningless.

_ Sense _ , he repeated, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. They burned as if acid had been poured into them.  _ Who the hell cares about sense? Nothing makes sense, the world is a set of unpleasant nonsense _ .

He would die without having achieved anything, not even saying goodbye to his loved ones. What would his parents say about the useless son they had? What would Akaashi say when he found out that he dropped the gun, and that Bokuto had an injured arm because of him, maybe even for life? ? The best thing was to leave in silence, something like goodbyes was stupid.

"K-Kenma..."

Kuroo's mournful sob dug into his chest like a thorn, cutting its way through his gut with agonizing slowness. The alpha had snuggled over him, resting his head against his chest as he held him tighter, to the point of becoming painful. And it wasn’t that he was hurting him, Kuroo's arms surrounded him with a gentleness not even he had with himself, but the anguish of the entire scene was overwhelming. Kenma wanted to hug him back, tell him that he wasn't going anywhere and that everything would be fine, but his lips were only trembling. He could feel salty tears running down the back of his throat, slipping away. He wanted to cry, but he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…" Kuroo was speaking in a rush, choking on his own sobs and hiccups. His entire body shook, and Kenma couldn't help but swallow hard and keep listening. “This is my fault, forgive me.”

_ No, it isn’t.  _

Kenma's lips trembled again, and small tears spilled over the edges of his eyes. He tried again to move one of his arms, this time his left, in his desperation to comfort Kuroo. All of his muscles trembled in unison, and he managed to move his fingers, grasping at the alpha's shirt and tugging at it. Kuroo reacted immediately, getting up to look at him. Gold and amber danced together once more.

_ It's not your fault, please, don't apologize, please. It's mine, it was always mine, sorry. I'm a useless piece of shit. _

They looked at each other in silence, Kenma’s fingers losing strength until they released the shirt, and his hand slid down, falling limp to the side. The cold reached up to his chest and his heartbeat grew heavier. His eyelids were shaking just from holding them open, he was exhausted, but he didn't want to leave Kuroo. He didn't want to stop looking at his face, his beautiful eyes; he didn't want to stop feeling his warmth, his arms surrounding him; he didn't want to leave, not like this.

_ I don't want to... _

His arm trembled as he tried to raise his hand again and tears ran down his cheeks. His lips parted, letting out a plaintive sound, trying to formulate even one word.

"Ku... ro..."

Kenma tried, and this time the alpha seemed to sense his intentions, taking his hand. He felt his icy fingers being squeezed by Kuroo's, which in comparison seemed to be on fire. He stared at their joined hands for a moment, perhaps hoping the image would be etched into his mind, before turning his eyes to the alpha's face. His eyelids were swollen to the point where he could barely keep his eyes open, and the rest of his face wasn't much better. The blows were beginning to take on color, and the dried blood in the cuts had been cracked by the sobs, so that one or another drop of blood could be seen to form. His crying had decreased, though now and then a single tear slid down his cheek.

Kenma really wished he could clean them.

"I'm here," Kuroo muttered, squeezing his hand gently. Kenma looked at him in silence, feeling his heart break when the other tried to smile at him, barely achieving a lopsided grin. “W-We're close now, you just have to hold on a little longer, okay? Everything will be fine…” 

He blinked, turning his gaze at Iwaizumi. The alpha seemed increasingly upset, honking and practically climbing onto the curb to pass other cars. Kenma would have liked to thank him, or maybe tell him not to try so hard for a helpless piece of shit like him.  _ You can't even take a little bleeding, can you? You've done enough harm, just die already.  _

“Kenma?” He returned his eyes to Kuroo, who was looking at him with some urgency. The alpha seemed nervous, and Kenma was certain that at any moment he would start crying again. “I... I am so sorry, I was weak and...  _ I'm sorry.” _

The beta, with some effort, managed to twist his mouth, as well as slowly shaking his head to deny. He felt his eyelids tremble, and his breathing became heavier. The fog filled his head again, this time pulling his body into unconsciousness. He needed to rest, even if it was a few minutes, then he could go on, right? Wake up and go back to his life as if nothing had happened.

He could sit in the break room with Akaashi drinking cocoa and coffee while the pair of idiots they were dating fought in the ring and ridiculous arguments of Oikawa and Iwaizumi came up from the reception room. They would go one more time to the Johnny Rockets for lunch and Saeko would take care of them, and she would joke around with them for a while, then bring them a bigger slice of apple pie just because she knows it's Kenma’s favorite. He could walk the way back to the office with Kuroo, so close that their hands would constantly clash until the alpha decided to intertwine their fingers. The four of them would spend New Year's Eve together, and they would go to the beach to watch the fireworks light up the sky. Perhaps Kuroo would give him a kiss before whispering ‘happy new year’ against his lips, and then kiss him again.

They would solve the case of the serial killer and appear on television talking about the violence in a society so based on sex and instincts. Their faces would fill newspaper covers, they would receive a wage raise that they would celebrate at home with a bottle of apple liqueur and long kissing sessions. They would have their first time, and then they would do it a thousand more times. He could leave all his problems behind, get better, go off his prescription drugs and his anxiety over the smallest details. He could be together with Kuroo without feeling ashamed of himself.

Kenma’s heart contracted painfully, drawing a gasp from him. The tears kept falling, forming burning rivers as they ran down his cheeks and lost themselves at the back of his neck.

_ You're pretty stupid, did you know? _

"Okay, calm down." Kuroo's voice was a purr against his ears. The alpha released his hand, leaving an emptiness behind that filled Kenma with a despair that only to disappear when he felt the other's palm against his cheek. His tears were wiped away with a couple of thumb strokes, and the beta used his last strength to stick his face to that long-fingered hand he adored so much. “You'll see, everything's gonna be alright, Kenma.”

The alpha tried to smile, achieving a grimace equal to or worse than his previous attempt, but Kenma couldn't care less.

"You'll see, everything's gonna be alright."

Those words echoed in Kenma’s mind, deafening the disgusting comments of his anxiety. He let the words enter his chest and held them close to his heart, faintly hoping that Kuroo was right.

He was in Kuroo's arms the rest of the way, struggling to keep his eyes open despite the tremors in them. He felt caresses on his good hand, on his face and hair, and from time to time a fleeting kiss accompanied by words of encouragement. Kenma fought his own body, feeling the numbness grow as he fell asleep. He thought of his parents, of Akaashi, and even of that weird guy who worked in a grocery store near his apartment —he had recently discovered his name: Yamamoto Taketora. He really wanted to see them all one more time.

Time flowed around Kenma strangely, and within the blink of an eye the car stopped, and new voices filled the air. The door next to Kuroo's body opened, and people dressed in light blue robes, gloves, and masks grabbed him by the armpits, carefully pulling his body onto a stretcher. His trembling body was held by thick cloth belts, to then be covered by a black  _ polar fleece _ blanket. The unknown figures danced around him, speaking things that he didn’t quite understand with the fog that filled his head.

They held his face and put a mask over his mouth and nose, filling his lungs with anesthesia. His vision blurred, he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, but he still used what little energy that was keeping him awake to turn his eyes back to the car.

As the stretcher was pulled away, he saw Kuroo sitting in the same place, with his legs out and his bloody shirt, biting his lip to keep from crying. Tears were running free again down his swollen cheeks, and he was looking at him like it was the last time he would. And maybe it was, so Kenma held his gaze on Kuroo's face until he couldn't anymore.

_ You'll see, everything's gonna be alright, Kenma. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!! How are you all? I hope I didn't broke your hearts that bad haha. This chapter is shorther than usual but it has the feels and I'm very proud. I hope y'all liked
> 
> Here's my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kodzu_Catt?s=09). I have cc if you wanna drop some theories, comments, questions... it's always open. Thanks for all the support, I'll be reading your comments!! ❤️❤️


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